


Daddy's Sweet Little Whore

by Jewelle32



Category: The Walking Dead
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 104,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jewelle32/pseuds/Jewelle32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set before TWD when Daryl is 16 and Merle is 24. Slightly AU and Malami inspired me with some ideas. </p><p>Merle comes home unexpectedly to witness something he can't believe is really happening. How will he react?</p><p>Loosely based on my other story – Daryl's Story but some details are different.<br/>Contains graphic child abuse – (sexual) of all kinds -  please don't read if you are sensitive to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based on my other story – Daryl's Story but some details are different.  
> Contains graphic child abuse – (sexual) of all kinds - please don't read if you are sensitive to this.

i.  
Daryl

I sighed as I came home from school – my ribs hurting like a bitch where he'd kicked me black and blue last night on the floor. For apparently looking at him sideways. I slumped into the kitchen, holding my hand to my side and dumped my school bag on the kitchen table. What was the fucking point of school anyway? Trigonometry wasn't ever going to save me.

Praying that he was out round Matt's -getting boozed up and high on crystal. Hoping he'd pass out and stay there overnight.

The house was quiet – seemed like he was out. I was lucky.  
I glared at the several empty beer cans on the table. Probably his – he started drinking as soon as he got up whenever the hell that was.  
'Merle?' I called out and hated the quavering timbre to my voice 'cos of course I was hoping he was at home. 'Cos I always felt that little bit safer when my big brother was around – knew that Dad wouldn't go too far in front of him.  
Then I heard his laugh. Shit – should have remembered that Merle had changed shifts at the car garage. No doubt Dad hadn't forgotten – he was always asking my brother about his work and his shift pattern but not because he cared.  
I knew the real reason.  
''Come here, son. Miss me?'' Suddenly Dad was standing in front of me – complete with a can in hand. Filthy string vest and boxers. Nothing on his feet. I could smell him from here – he rarely bothered to shower these days and see his 3 day beard on his face.  
I calculated how far I could run out of the front door before he caught me. Get to the woods – where I was safe.  
He sniggered – reading my mind as he shifted to block my way.  
No chance. Even though I was 16 – I grew slow – still had skinny arms and a small frame. No match against his bulk.  
'Fuck off.' I snarled at him, lashing out first. Knowing what he wanted. Could see it in his eyes. What he always wanted from me these days when he wasn't beating the shit out of me.  
I was rewarded by him striding the few feet that separated us to cuff me. I cowered to the ground automatically, like I always did – my arms raised to instinctively protect my head.  
'The fuck ya say to me?' He slurred. But the additional blows I was expecting never came.  
I didn't answer.  
But the slur gave me hope – maybe he wouldn't be able to do it. Maybe he'd pass out beforehand. It had happened a few times before.  
The he reached down to stroke my hair. And when I was little – I would have leaned into his hand but his touch now made my skin crawl. It felt like there were roaches crawling all over my scalp and I flinched and cringed away. Trying in vain to get away from his hand.  
From his disgusting touch.  
'Come here, boy. ' He said tenderly, then helped me up. Dragging me to his bedroom by one arm.  
'Ya going to be a good boy, ain't ya? To ya old Dad?' He almost pleaded.  
'Fuck you, ya sick fuck.' I couldn't help antagonising him because his gentle father act was creeping me out more than the usual brutality ever would.  
Violence was simply more easy to deal with.  
'Get in there.' He growled as he roughly pushed me into the room.  
Merle! I screamed with my mind. Strange to say – sometimes he came running. Like he knew I was in trouble.  
'Now, now.' He said to me, his eyes roving greedily all over my body. 'Take ya clothes off.' He ordered while undoing his belt.  
I flinched when he always did that – even though I knew he was going to use it on me today.  
No – he had something else in mind.  
'No!' I screamed at him. My own rage taking over.  
'If ya don't...it's gonna be bad. I ain't gonna be gentle.'  
I almost laughed in his face. When had he ever been gentle?  
'Well, if ya won't....I'll jus' have to, won't I?' He said as he shoved me onto the bed. Started pulling off my T-shirt and yanking off my jeans. His hands all over me – touching me everywhere until I wanted to throw up. Trying to arouse me – wriggling his fingers inside me – touching me down there even. But I swallowed the bile back down – it would not do good to provoke him further by puking all over the new bedroom carpet.  
Strangely, while this was happening – all I could remember was when I was small and he was Nice Daddy – when he'd innocently undress me to give me a bath. Or undo my shoelaces before pulling off my shoes when he tucked me in at night with a kiss on the forehead.  
Was it so different?  
When had everything gone to shit? Why?  
I fought, I struggled- I promise you, I did not go quietly but he was far too strong for me as we wrestled. But I was making it hard for him to undress me – all the time I was praying that just this once Merle would come home unexpectedly and catch us and put a stop to this sick shit once and for all.  
Because I couldn't tell him – couldn't put it into words what was happening to me nearly every day – sometimes nights too.  
He had to see. He had to know. Could he really be so blind?  
But he knew something was wrong – looked at me with growing concern but I brushed off his questions. That was when he was home of course and relatively sober which didn't happen very often.  
'No!' I screamed, I yelled until he punched me in the face several times. Then several times more right on top of my already bruised ribs and I couldn't help screaming in pain when he did that.  
To subdue me. No doubt worried about the neighbours hearing me. Not that they would do anything.  
Then he pulled off my trousers and my underwear while I just lay there. I drew in my knees to my chest and curled up into a ball.  
He just laughed.  
My face was throbbing and so was my side – I hoped that my bruised ribs hadn't been upgraded into broken ones. Or that he hadn't given me internal injuries. And I dreaded to see what I looked like. More funny looks the next time I went out. Everybody knew that he beat the shit out of me but I don't think they knew about the other stuff he did to me.  
It was just pain and I was used to it. Knew how to deal with it – ignore it and push it one side.  
'Now, now.' He leered at me as his pinned me to the bed by my thin arms.  
I struggled but his grip on me was made of steel.  
Then he took the belt and I couldn't help cringing like I always did when he did that. He sneered with contempt at me.  
'I gonna teach ya a lesson, boy. About respect.'  
But he didn't do what I expected him to – he took the belt and wrapped it tight around my neck.  
Wha...' I gasped. He'd never done this before.  
'From now on, ya do somethin' I don't like, ya get this!' He whispered and pulled the belt so tight that I couldn't breathe. Let me choke for a few seconds – it felt like minutes – until my vision started to grey.  
Message was loud and clear. He'd fuckin' kill me if I didn't submit and please him besides.  
He turned me over then onto my stomach and got out the lubricant jelly he kept in his bedside table. Rubbed it all over his erect cock – already moaning as he did so. I didn't turn my head round – didn't want to look but I could hear clearly what he was doing.  
Probably used it on himself before he started using me I thought wryly to myself.  
'I think we'll skip the warm-up and all.' He announced. He meant when he raped my mouth and made me suck him until he came. His hand fisting my hair and barely letting me breathe. Never let me spit – always made me swallow his vile fluid that always made me want to puke it right up again. Or he did the same to me until I orgasmed despite my shame and humiliation. 'Cos the sick bastard was always able to make me come. Just to show me that he was in complete control of my body and I wasn't.  
'Just go straight to the main act, huh son?' He pressed his stiff dick against my backside but without penetrating me yet. Suggested it like he was offering me a choice while yanking on the belt around my neck like I was a dog. I didn't have enough breath to answer but he took it as a yes, anyway.  
'God, ya so tight and hot.' He groaned in anticipation. 'Now, ya be a good hot little bitch for Daddy and ya won't get hurt. I'll even let ya breathe, how that do ya?'  
'Enough with the foreplay.' I sneered at him. Knowing the earlier he got started, the earlier it would be over. Looking at my blood from the head wounds that were already on the sheets. 'Get on with it already.'  
Knowing that there would be more blood to come.  
'Just as ya like.' He sniggered and pushed into me.  
Started thrusting almost immediately. I couldn't help myself whimpering like I always did when my father raped me but it only excited me more.  
'That's it, ya little slut. Ya like it, don't ya?'  
'No!' I screamed as he started to really pound away at me – going deeper and deeper. My panic growing as I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside. And the pain from my ribs from the movement.  
'Please Daddy stop!' I begged. That earned me a cuff round the head. I was calling him by the childish name we used to when were smaller. 'Ya hurtin' me!'  
'Shut up, ya little cocktease.' He panted between groans of ecstasy. 'Ya wanted this – I know ya did – don't play coy with me - ya told me to do it!' He hissed in my ear then tightened the belt around my neck. My chest hitched uselessly in and out because I couldn't get a breath. Panic made me struggle even more – I really thought he was going to kill me but just as everything around me was starting to go dark, he loosened it again.  
'Just for telling me to stop, I'm gonna punish ya some more, ya dirty little whore.' He breathed throatily between moans. 'Daddy's sweet little whore.' He moaned in my ear.  
Then he drew back and pushed himself even more viciously deeper inside me.  
Riding me. Tightening and loosening the belt at the same time like I was a horse and he was holding my reins.  
And all the time my ribs throbbed from the pounding motions but that was nothing compared to pain inside.  
''Cos dirty little boys like ya don't get to say no. This is ya punishment for being bad. For killin' ya Mama.  
Despite myself I was crying, maybe even let out a few sobs with the tears running down my cheeks now when he mentioned her. And I couldn't stop them. Because what would she think if she could see us now? And I still missed her desperately.  
He drew back and stopped momentarily. Turned me over and gently wiped away my tears with the corner of the sheet. And I felt too weak to struggle – to even cringe away. Worse - I felt ashamed that I let him see me cry when I promised myself I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Ever!  
'Cos Dixons don't cry – never.  
'Ah... ya know ya did, didn't ya? Ya bought her the rat's piss and the smokes that caused her to pass out and burn herself to death.' He crooned at me before roughly flipping me over and starting all over again. 'Now ya gonna get punished for it, ya bad little boy.'  
He doubled the tempo of his thrusts but at least he wasn't going so deep like before. He held the end of the belt to control me.  
'Remember when I whipped ya?  
I said nothing because he'd twist anything I did say.  
'Ya were 10. So little and so scared. Whimperin' and pleadin' like a little whore – just like now.'  
'Fuck you. No, I didn't.' I screamed at him as I remembered that day. How could I ever forget? Besides I had the scars to remind me. He tightened on the belt in response- just enough to make it hard for me to breathe.  
'Ya nothin', always were nothin' and ya never, ever gonna be nothin'. I own ya now.'  
'No! Ya on the one that's fuckin' nothin'!' I screamed back at him in rage but I heard the whimper in my voice soon afterwards as he started to thrust further inside me again.  
'Ain't no one ever gonna want ya after what I've done to ya. Marked ya for my own. Even when I'm long dead and gone – you'll always belong to me. 'Cos you'll always remember this as long as ya live.'  
He considerately loosened the halter around my neck when I began to sob for real. Couldn't help it as he continued his vicious tirade while forcing himself deeper and deeper into me. Really hurting me.  
'Merle never cried.' He taunted me. 'Always took his punishments like a Dixon.'  
Despite my pain and terror I turned my head round to stare at him. 'Ya did this to him too?' I cried.  
He gave a small, cruel smile. 'You'll have to ask him. But ya won't, will ya, son? Ya don't want anyone to know about our special game. Especially not ya big brother. He'd hate ya forever.'  
'That ain't true! He'd hate ya!' I yelled back.  
When was he going to be finished? It felt like he'd been at me for hours. 

ii.

Merle came back into the kitchen – banged his toolbox onto the kitchen table. Immediately went to the fridge looking for some cool beer to calm himself down. He was furious. He'd just been fired from the fourth job in a row just because they found some coke in his locker. For fuck's sake! He bet it was that slimeball Martinez who set him up just because he banged his girlfriend once. And she was nothing to look at - was a junkie whore who wasn't even that good in the sack.  
His mind chewed over the images of exactly how he was going to make the sneering Martinez pay for the loss of his job. Didn't look like another one would come along so quickly now that the recession was in full swing.  
And there wasn't any beer either! Probably the old man had drunk them all even though Merle had been the one to buy them. Stomping upstairs in a foul mood he went to his bedroom but stopped as he heard the noises coming from their father's room next door. Thumping noises and groans and whimpers.

'Just for telling me to stop, I'm gonna punish ya some more, ya dirty little whore.....Daddy's sweet little whore.' He heard his father say through the thin walls. Did he have one of his broads in there – who obviously liked it rough and it sounded very kinky. He chuckled to himself dirtily as he cupped his ear to the wall. God – he was getting turned on by his father talking dirty to the woman even though he knew he shouldn't be listening.  
Then he straightened up in shock at the next thing he heard.  
''Cos dirty little boys like ya don't get to say no. This is ya punishment for being bad. For killin' ya Mama.'  
'Dirty little boys like you? Killing your Mama?' What the fuck? Then Merle heard boyish sobs – Daryl's? His baby brother was in there? Daryl was crying? He'd raised him better than that. 'Cos Dixons never cried. Daryl hadn't - not since he was five years old. He must be mistaken. Couldn't be his baby brother – some other boy - besides their Daddy wasn't gay – he fucking hated those perverted assfuckers.  
'Ah... ya know ya did, didn't ya? Ya bought her the rat's piss and the smokes that caused her to pass out and burn herself to death. Now ya gonna get punished for it, ya bad little boy.' Merle heard his father's voice croon before he started making sex noises shortly again afterwards.  
All groans and swinish grunts.  
His father could only be talking about their Mama who died in the fire.  
'Remember when I whipped ya? Ya were 10. So little and so scared. Whimperin' and pleadin' like a little whore – just like now.'  
Heard his brother say 'Fuck you!' defiantly. 'No, I didn't!'  
'Ya nothin', always were nothin' and ya never, ever gonna be nothin'. I own ya now.'  
'No! Ya the one's that fuckin' nothin'!' Daryl fought back but then Merle heard his teenage brother start to whimper in that irritating way of his that used to drive Merle nuts. But now those sounds made his heart lurch painfully in his chest so much that it physically hurt. And he'd tried to make him grow out of it. But what the hell was going on?  
'Ain't no one ever gonna want ya after what I've done to ya. Marked ya for my own. Even when I'm long dead and gone – you'll always belong to me. You'll always remember this as long as ya live.'  
He could barely believe what he was hearing. Must be some kind of sick joke right? Must be his imagination? Or did he fall asleep and was having a nightmare?  
'Merle never cried.' He heard his father taunt his sobbing brother. 'Always took his punishments like a Dixon.'  
In between the thumps and obscene groans of pleasure.  
Right that was it. Merle decided to go and see for himself. Hoping that it was all just a product of his sick and twisted mind. Hoping that he'd go in there and find his father fucking some broad. Or better- no-one there at all. Hoping that he was on the worst trip of his life but he didn't recall taking anything recently. Had been trying to clean up, find a job and save some money actually. Get him and Daryl out of this shithole and away from their old man for good. Still, he had the presence of mind to take his gun with him – fully loaded that he used for self- protection (it was necessary in their neighbourhood) and his hunting knife. Just in case.  
Went next door and without warning burst open the door. Saw something that would be burnt in his memory until the day he died. Every fucking filthy, disgusting detail. And the image would be there waiting for him before he fell asleep every night.  
Daryl crying and their father was on top of him. Riding him – his belt tied around his younger brother's throat like a dog collar– like a horse's halter with the end in their father's hand.  
The scars visible on his back and nasty blue- black bruises on his side.  
'Ya did this to him too?' Daryl turned round to ask their father between sobs. Still managing to sound horrified and concerned for him. Then Merle saw his beaten face and he silently vowed vengeance for every bruise on his baby brother's body – in addition to the unbelievable sick scene before him.  
'You'll have to ask him. But ya won't, will ya, son? Ya don't want anyone to know about our special game. Especially not ya big brother. He'd hate ya forever.'  
'That ain't true! He'd hate ya!' Daryl yelled back.

Then their father sensed his presence and finally saw him in the doorway.

Nothing on his feet. I could smell him from here – he rarely bothe  
From his disgusting touch.  
'Come here, boy. ' He said tenderly, then helped me up. Dragging me to his bedroom by one arm.  
'Ya going to be a good boy, ain't ya? To ya old Dad?' He almost pleaded.  
'Fuck you, ya sick fuck.' I couldn't help antagonising him because his gentle father act was creeping me out more than the usual brutality ever would.  
Violence was simply more easy to deal with.  
'Get in there.' He growled as he roughly pushed me into the room.  
Merle! I screamed with my mind. Strange to say – sometimes he came running. Like he knew I was in trouble.  
'Now, now.' He said to me, his eyes roving greedily all over my body. 'Take ya clothes off.' He ordered while undoing his belt.  
I flinched when he always did that – even though I knew he was going to use it on me today.  
No – he had something else in mind.  
'No!' I screamed at him. My own rage taking over.  
'If ya don't...it's gonna be bad. I ain't gonna be gentle.'  
I almost laughed in his face. When had he ever been gentle?  
'Well, if ya won't....I'll jus' have to, won't I?' He said as he shoved me onto the bed. Started pulling off my T-shirt and yanking off my jeans. His hands all over me – touching me everywhere until I wanted to throw up. Trying to arouse me – wriggling his fingers inside me – touching me down there even. But I swallowed the bile back down – it would not do good to provoke him further by puking all over the new bedroom carpet.  
Strangely, while this was happening – all I could remember was when I was small and he was Nice Daddy – when he'd innocently undress me to give me a bath. Or undo my shoelaces before pulling off my shoes when he tucked me in at night with a kiss on the forehead.  
Was it so different?  
When had everything gone to shit? Why?  
I fought, I struggled- I promise you, I did not go quietly but he was far too strong for me as we wrestled. But I was making it hard for him to undress me – all the time I was praying that just this once Merle would come home unexpectedly and catch us and put a stop to this sick shit once and for all.  
Because I couldn't tell him – couldn't put it into words what was happening to me nearly every day – sometimes nights too.  
He had to see. He had to know. Could he really be so blind?  
But he knew something was wrong – looked at me with growing concern but I brushed off his questions. That was when he was home of course and relatively sober which didn't happen very often.  
'No!' I screamed, I yelled until he punched me in the face several times. Then several times more right on top of my already bruised ribs and I couldn't help screaming in pain when he did that.  
To subdue me. No doubt worried about the neighbours hearing me. Not that they would do anything.  
Then he pulled off my trousers and my underwear while I just lay there. I drew in my knees to my chest and curled up into a ball.  
He just laughed.  
My face was throbbing and so was my side – I hoped that my bruised ribs hadn't been upgraded into broken ones. Or that he hadn't given me internal injuries. And I dreaded to see what I looked like. More funny looks the next time I went out. Everybody knew that he beat the shit out of me but I don't think they knew about the other stuff he did to me.  
It was just pain and I was used to it. Knew how to deal with it – ignore it and push it one side.  
'Now, now.' He leered at me as his pinned me to the bed by my thin arms.  
I struggled but his grip on me was made of steel.  
Then he took the belt and I couldn't help cringing like I always did when he did that. He sneered with contempt at me.  
'I gonna teach ya a lesson, boy. About respect.'  
But he didn't do what I expected him to – he took the belt and wrapped it tight around my neck.  
Wha...' I gasped. He'd never done this before.  
'From now on, ya do somethin' I don't like, ya get this!' He whispered and pulled the belt so tight that I couldn't breathe. Let me choke for a few seconds – it felt like minutes – until my vision started to grey.  
Message was loud and clear. He'd fuckin' kill me if I didn't submit and please him besides.  
He turned me over then onto my stomach and got out the lubricant jelly he kept in his bedside table. Rubbed it all over his erect cock – already moaning as he did so. I didn't turn my head round – didn't want to look but I could hear clearly what he was doing.  
Probably used it on himself before he started using me I thought wryly to myself.  
'I think we'll skip the warm-up and all.' He announced. He meant when he raped my mouth and made me suck him until he came. His hand fisting my hair and barely letting me breathe. Never let me spit – always made me swallow his vile fluid that always made me want to puke it right up again. Or he did the same to me until I orgasmed despite my shame and humiliation. 'Cos the sick bastard was always able to make me come. Just to show me that he was in complete control of my body and I wasn't.  
'Just go straight to the main act, huh son?' He pressed his stiff dick against my backside but without penetrating me yet. Suggested it like he was offering me a choice while yanking on the belt around my neck like I was a dog. I didn't have enough breath to answer but he took it as a yes, anyway.  
'God, ya so tight and hot.' He groaned in anticipation. 'Now, ya be a good hot little bitch for Daddy and ya won't get hurt. I'll even let ya breathe, how that do ya?'  
'Enough with the foreplay.' I sneered at him. Knowing the earlier he got started, the earlier it would be over. Looking at my blood from the head wounds that were already on the sheets. 'Get on with it already.'  
Knowing that there would be more blood to come.  
'Just as ya like.' He sniggered and pushed into me.  
Started thrusting almost immediately. I couldn't help myself whimpering like I always did when my father raped me but it only excited me more.  
'That's it, ya little slut. Ya like it, don't ya?'  
'No!' I screamed as he started to really pound away at me – going deeper and deeper. My panic growing as I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside. And the pain from my ribs from the movement.  
'Please Daddy stop!' I begged. That earned me a cuff round the head. I was calling him by the childish name we used to when were smaller. 'Ya hurtin' me!'  
'Shut up, ya little cocktease.' He panted between groans of ecstasy. 'Ya wanted this – I know ya did – don't play coy with me - ya told me to do it!' He hissed in my ear then tightened the belt around my neck. My chest hitched uselessly in and out because I couldn't get a breath. Panic made me struggle even more – I really thought he was going to kill me but just as everything around me was starting to go dark, he loosened it again.  
'Just for telling me to stop, I'm gonna punish ya some more, ya dirty little whore.' He breathed throatily between moans. 'Daddy's sweet little whore.' He moaned in my ear.  
Then he drew back and pushed himself even more viciously deeper inside me.  
Riding me. Tightening and loosening the belt at the same time like I was a horse and he was holding my reins.  
And all the time my ribs throbbed from the pounding motions but that was nothing compared to pain inside.  
''Cos dirty little boys like ya don't get to say no. This is ya punishment for being bad. For killin' ya Mama.  
Despite myself I was crying, maybe even let out a few sobs with the tears running down my cheeks now when he mentioned her. And I couldn't stop them. Because what would she think if she could see us now? And I still missed her desperately.  
He drew back and stopped momentarily. Turned me over and gently wiped away my tears with the corner of the sheet. And I felt too weak to struggle – to even cringe away. Worse - I felt ashamed that I let him see me cry when I promised myself I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Ever!  
'Cos Dixons don't cry – never.  
'Ah... ya know ya did, didn't ya? Ya bought her the rat's piss and the smokes that caused her to pass out and burn herself to death.' He crooned at me before roughly flipping me over and starting all over again. 'Now ya gonna get punished for it, ya bad little boy.'  
He doubled the tempo of his thrusts but at least he wasn't going so deep like before. He held the end of the belt to control me.  
'Remember when I whipped ya?  
I said nothing because he'd twist anything I did say.  
'Ya were 10. So little and so scared. Whimperin' and pleadin' like a little whore – just like now.'  
'Fuck you. No, I didn't.' I screamed at him as I remembered that day. How could I ever forget? Besides I had the scars to remind me. He tightened on the belt in response- just enough to make it hard for me to breathe.  
'Ya nothin', always were nothin' and ya never, ever gonna be nothin'. I own ya now.'  
'No! Ya on the one that's fuckin' nothin'!' I screamed back at him in rage but I heard the whimper in my voice soon afterwards as he started to thrust further inside me again.  
'Ain't no one ever gonna want ya after what I've done to ya. Marked ya for my own. Even when I'm long dead and gone – you'll always belong to me. 'Cos you'll always remember this as long as ya live.'  
He considerately loosened the halter around my neck when I began to sob for real. Couldn't help it as he continued his vicious tirade while forcing himself deeper and deeper into me. Really hurting me.  
'Merle never cried.' He taunted me. 'Always took his punishments like a Dixon.'  
Despite my pain and terror I turned my head round to stare at him. 'Ya did this to him too?' I cried.  
He gave a small, cruel smile. 'You'll have to ask him. But ya won't, will ya, son? Ya don't want anyone to know about our special game. Especially not ya big brother. He'd hate ya forever.'  
'That ain't true! He'd hate ya!' I yelled back.  
When was he going to be finished? It felt like he'd been at me for hours.

ii.

Merle came back into the kitchen – banged his toolbox onto the kitchen table. Immediately went to the fridge looking for some cool beer to calm himself down. He was furious. He'd just been fired from the fourth job in a row just because they found some coke in his locker. For fuck's sake! He bet it was that slimeball Martinez who set him up just because he banged his girlfriend once. And she was nothing to look at - was a junkie whore who wasn't even that good in the sack.  
His mind chewed over the images of exactly how he was going to make the sneering Martinez pay for the loss of his job. Didn't look like another one would come along so quickly now that the recession was in full swing.  
And there wasn't any beer either! Probably the old man had drunk them all even though Merle had been the one to buy them. Stomping upstairs in a foul mood he went to his bedroom but stopped as he heard the noises coming from their father's room next door. Thumping noises and groans and whimpers.

'Just for telling me to stop, I'm gonna punish ya some more, ya dirty little whore.....Daddy's sweet little whore.' He heard his father say through the thin walls. Did he have one of his broads in there – who obviously liked it rough and it sounded very kinky. He chuckled to himself dirtily as he cupped his ear to the wall. God – he was getting turned on by his father talking dirty to the woman even though he knew he shouldn't be listening.  
Then he straightened up in shock at the next thing he heard.  
''Cos dirty little boys like ya don't get to say no. This is ya punishment for being bad. For killin' ya Mama.'  
'Dirty little boys like you? Killing your Mama?' What the fuck? Then Merle heard boyish sobs – Daryl's? His baby brother was in there? Daryl was crying? He'd raised him better than that. 'Cos Dixons never cried. Daryl hadn't - not since he was five years old. He must be mistaken. Couldn't be his baby brother – some other boy - besides their Daddy wasn't gay – he fucking hated those perverted assfuckers.  
'Ah... ya know ya did, didn't ya? Ya bought her the rat's piss and the smokes that caused her to pass out and burn herself to death. Now ya gonna get punished for it, ya bad little boy.' Merle heard his father's voice croon before he started making sex noises shortly again afterwards.  
All groans and swinish grunts.  
His father could only be talking about their Mama who died in the fire.  
'Remember when I whipped ya? Ya were 10. So little and so scared. Whimperin' and pleadin' like a little whore – just like now.'  
Heard his brother say 'Fuck you!' defiantly. 'No, I didn't!'  
'Ya nothin', always were nothin' and ya never, ever gonna be nothin'. I own ya now.'  
'No! Ya the one's that fuckin' nothin'!' Daryl fought back but then Merle heard his teenage brother start to whimper in that irritating way of his that used to drive Merle nuts. But now those sounds made his heart lurch painfully in his chest so much that it physically hurt. And he'd tried to make him grow out of it. But what the hell was going on?  
'Ain't no one ever gonna want ya after what I've done to ya. Marked ya for my own. Even when I'm long dead and gone – you'll always belong to me. You'll always remember this as long as ya live.'  
He could barely believe what he was hearing. Must be some kind of sick joke right? Must be his imagination? Or did he fall asleep and was having a nightmare?  
'Merle never cried.' He heard his father taunt his sobbing brother. 'Always took his punishments like a Dixon.'  
In between the thumps and obscene groans of pleasure.  
Right that was it. Merle decided to go and see for himself. Hoping that it was all just a product of his sick and twisted mind. Hoping that he'd go in there and find his father fucking some broad. Or better- no-one there at all. Hoping that he was on the worst trip of his life but he didn't recall taking anything recently. Had been trying to clean up, find a job and save some money actually. Get him and Daryl out of this shithole and away from their old man for good. Still, he had the presence of mind to take his gun with him – fully loaded that he used for self- protection (it was necessary in their neighbourhood) and his hunting knife. Just in case.  
Went next door and without warning burst open the door. Saw something that would be burnt in his memory until the day he died. Every fucking filthy, disgusting detail. And the image would be there waiting for him before he fell asleep every night.  
Daryl crying and their father was on top of him. Riding him – his belt tied around his younger brother's throat like a dog collar– like a horse's halter with the end in their father's hand.  
The scars visible on his back and nasty blue- black bruises on his side.  
'Ya did this to him too?' Daryl turned round to ask their father between sobs. Still managing to sound horrified and concerned for him. Then Merle saw his beaten face and he silently vowed vengeance for every bruise on his baby brother's body – in addition to the unbelievable sick scene before him.  
'You'll have to ask him. But ya won't, will ya, son? Ya don't want anyone to know about our special game. Especially not ya big brother. He'd hate ya forever.'  
'That ain't true! He'd hate ya!' Daryl yelled back.

Then their father sensed his presence and finally saw him in the doorway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Merle react? What will he do? There'll be more chapters to come because I can't leave our boys hanging like that, can I?

i  
Daryl

My brother looked at the scene before him with mingled rage and revulsion on his face as he trained the gun on our father. And I cringed back – even trying to hide behind my father who pulled out of me immediately and dropped the end of the belt when he saw him.   
Because I'd wanted him to find us but not find us if you know what I mean.  
I was ashamed and embarrassed.   
Strangely, I felt guilty.

Merle looked at our father who had thankfully withdrawn and got off me. Trying to get his breath back. Sheepishly covered his swollen and dripping penis by wrapping a towel round his waist that lay on a nearby chair while Merle sneered at him with revulsion and disdain. Still hadn't managed to say anything.

Dad held up his hands in surrender.

I was lying there naked with my skinny ass bare up for my older brother to see so I covered myself with the coverlet. Saw more blood on the sheets. 

My father had been naked also.

Not that it was a big deal.

'Take that fuckin' thing off from around his neck, ya sick motherfucker.' Merle spoke in a calm, detached voice. 'No – ya not even that – ya worse.' But anyone who knew him well – like me – knew this was when he was at most dangerous. Most enraged. I knew that he wasfully capable of killing our father for what he saw him doing to me. Dad leaned over me to obey but when Merle saw how I cringed away from him and couldn't help the whimpers that escaped me, he changed his mind.

'No, on second thoughts, I'll do it. 'Cos I don't want ya touchin' him. Ever again. In fact - get the fuck away from him. Now.' He ordered and Dad didn't hesitate to obey. 'It's not what ya think, son.' He gabbled, hand raised in appeal. 'It's a game... we were just pretendin'.  
But his lies only enraged my older brother more. 'Don't fuckin' lie to me. I heard  
the things ya called him – 'ya sweet little whore', 'a dirty little boy who needs to be fucked in punishment for killing his Mama.''' He raged. 'Besides, I jus' saw ya.' Then he just grabbed a pillow to muffle the sound - we didn't want any one calling 911 – not that there was any real chance of that in our neighbourhood - and shot my father in the knee-cap to immobilise him. And Dad fell to the ground, clutching his knee. 'Ya fuckin' bastard' he moaned in agony. 'Ya ungrateful little shits.'  
My eyes widened in shock.  
'Shut up. That's just for starters. Ain't nothin' compared to what I'm gonna do to ya, ya sick bag of shit.' Merle told him coldly and kicked him viciously – deliberately just where he'd shot him as our father howled in pain. 'Can dish it out but can't take it, ya piece of baby-rapin' shit.'  
He strode over to me and when he saw me his eyes were full of some emotion I didn't recognise. Like he was weighing me up somehow and I couldn't help recoiling from him. I didn't know what he was going to do because was some of that rage I saw in his eyes meant for me? Did he hate me like Dad said he would? Did he think I wanted this? I led Dad on somehow?  
Was he disgusted with me?  
His face softened, especially when he saw how badly beaten up I was. 'Sh...sh. It's me, Merle. I ain't gonna hurt ya, ya know that.' He whispered to me as he gently undid the belt from around my neck. The buckle had dug in to my nape and it was sore – I rubbed it absent-mindedly. My whole neck was sore from the belt. It hurt to swallow. 'Was it the first time he's done this to ya?' He asked.  
I shook my head. Looked down at the bed in shame. 'Ain't the first. Done it loads of times.' I glared pitilessly at our father – moaning now for a very different reason as he clutched his bloody knee to him.  
Merle put his hand on my shoulder and looked away then and I couldn't read his eyes. 'Here.' He said gruffly as he grabbed a clean bath towel from the drawer and threw it to me. 'Have a shower, clean yourself up and put your clothes back on.'  
I looked at our father – still groaning in pain, oblivious to our conversation. 'Wha...what ya gonna do to him?' I pointed down at him.  
My brother looked at me in disbelief. 'Why do ya care?' He asked incredulously. 'After what the sick fuck was doin' to ya...?'  
'Merle – he's still our father!' Dad looked up at me, face drawn and white from pain and then at my brother, nodding eagerly. 'He's right. Ya don't wanna be like me, do ya, Merle? Ya wanna be the better man, right?'  
'I said SHUT THE FUCK UP'! Ya don't deserve to LIVE let alone TALK!' Merle yelled at him and then pistol-whipped our father who immediately slumped to the floor, unconscious.  
'Now, that's better.' Merle said with relief. 'I need to think.'  
'Look, we can phone the police – tell them what he was doin' to me...'  
He looked at me with exasperation at my naivety. Dixons don't grass or have any legitimate dealings with the police. 'Ya know what the people around here are like. The cops included. They won't do nothin'. And do ya want to have everybody know what he...did? You'll be saddled with that for the rest of ya life, ya know that boy?'  
I looked at him – I didn't know what expression was on my face. But he frowned. Softened his tone. 'None of the shit he did to ya is ya fault, ya know that but do ya really want people to know? If they do anythin' – they'll take ya away to be adopted or put ya in a foster home. They'll put ya in therapy for years – make ya go over and over again all the things he did to ya.'  
I shuddered. I didn't never want to talk about that shit ever again – particularly not with a stranger. Just wanted to forget – pretend it never happened.  
'They'll say ya damaged!' Merle concluded his final argument.  
I trembled with indignation. I wasn't damaged! Thought I'd coped pretty well – better than most would have done in the same circumstances. I was tough – I was a Dixon!  
Then I looked downcast at the floor – my gaze sliding over my unconscious father. Merle went over to him and started tying his hands behind him with the belt he'd used on me. Then he tied the ends to the leg of the bed.  
'What will ya do?'  
'I'lll make sure he never touches ya again, that's what I'm gonna do. No matter what ya hear – ya stay away until I tell ya to come back in. OK?'  
Part of my mind knew what he had in mind but I shut that part down. Went to have a shower and clean myself up. My head was pounding from his savage blows, my ribs throbbing. But I blocked out the pain like I always did.  
But no matter how much I scrubbed, I couldn't get the feeling of his hands and his tongue all over me – or his dick pumping inside me –or the pain – especially that - it was like he was still inside me. His filth when he spurted inside me. The taste of him in my mouth when he forced himself inside it, not caring that I choked or felt like I was suffocating.  
And the fact that I was still bleeding into the shower and hurting back there seemed to confirm this. I wondered dully when it would stop.  
Marked ya for my own. Even when I'm long dead and gone – you'll always belong to me. You'll always remember this as long as ya live.'  
I could still feel him. Still feel it. Still felt his filth, his hands all over me, inside me.  
Would I ever get rid of the feel of him?  
I own ya now.  
These thoughts led to, without warning, my emotions hijacking my body as I started to shake uncontrollably, as I slid down the shower stall and began to sob. Letting the water run over me until it turned cold but not caring. Because I was feeling like no matter how long I stayed under it, I'd never be clean again.  
Snap out of it! Dixons don't cry!  
I heard Merle bang on the bathroom door. 'Ya OK, Daryl?'  
'Yeah, fine.' I croaked, trying to muffle the pathetic, whimpering sounds coming out of me as best as I could.  
I could tell he didn't believe me but he went away, didn't press me.  
I must have been in the shower about 45 minutes after the water went cold – I didn't know when I finally got myself under control.  
I dried myself off and warmed myself up. Put on my clean clothes. Looked at myself in the mirror.  
Of course I looked like hell. My face was a swollen, bruised, battered mess and my throat was sore. It hurt to swallow. Had red marks on it from the belt and I hoped I wasn't going to scar from it. I didn't think so. Not to forget my ribs – I hoped that they were only cracked maybe and would heal by themselves.  
Last thing I wanted was to have to go to hospital and answer their dumb, invasive questions. Them to find out everything he'd done to me because I was still a minor.  
I looked drained and exhausted with purple rings under my eyes and the look in them was half-crazy.

ii.

I put a brave face on it – Merle said he would sort it and he would. He'd never let Dad hurt me ever again.  
That was the last time he'd ever do that shit to me.  
I should be happy, relieved but I wasn't. Especially when I heard the agonised screams and low groans coming from upstairs in our father's bedroom. I couldn't have heard anything from the bathroom downstairs. Or maybe I'd been too out of it to hear or I didn't want to hear.  
I didn't know which as I stopped to listen in shock. I could hear the curious mixture of tears and rage in my brother's voice as he shouted, 'I'd hate him forever, would I , if I found out? No, he's right, I fuckin' hate ya!'  
Followed by our father screaming high-pitched in agony.  
'So, he's a dirty little boy, is he?.... Ya sick, twisted fuck.'  
Scream.... Scream.  
'So, he's ya sweet little whore, is he? And he killed Mama?'  
Scream.  
'Ya fuck ya own son? He was fuckin' cryin', Dad! How could ya?'  
Scream. Groan. 'Please...I'm sorry...it'll never happen again...I'll stay away from him, I promise. I'll make it up to ya both.... I'll do anythin'...Just don't do it again, please.' Dad was pleading with Merle – sounded like for his life. I raced upstairs as far as I could.  
Merle was the one screaming now. 'Ain't nothin' ya can do to ever make this right.'  
What was Merle doing to our father? I had to stop it.  
'Except one thing.' I heard him say tonelessly.  
I ran and burst open the door. Walked in, specifically against Merle's instructions, just in time to see my brother shoot our father in the head using another pillow as a silencer.  
Killing him instantly as the goose feathers fluttered to the ground for the second time that day.  
'Merle...' I said. He spun round, his eyes full of shame? And anger. 'I thought I told ya to stay away until I finished.' He yelled at me. Deliberately moving to stand in front of our father's body so I couldn't see it, blocking my view.  
But I'd already seen.  
'Merle...' my voice quivered. 'What ya done?' I trembled.  
'Ya weren't supposed to see this. Get out until I tell ya to come back.' He ordered me harshly.  
I ignored him. 'Ya killed him, didn't ya? What did ya do to him before ya shot him?'  
I'd seen the the blood stain spreading through the pristine white towel – where my father's crotch was.  
Where his thing was that he used to hurt me.  
'Wha...what did ya do, Merle? I thought we were jus' gonna up and leave...'  
Then I saw the blood-stained knife on the dresser. I knew what Merle had done before he put Dad out of his misery. Because death must have seemed like a mercy after that kind of torture. If he didn't bleed from his gunshot wound first. Then I saw that Merle had made a tourniquet out of another sheet on his leg.  
I shivered then at the cold calculation of my older brother who'd kept my father alive long enough just so that he could torture him.  
Before killing him anyway.  
'Merle!' I exclaimed in horror and he shrugged like he didn't care.  
'Ya a big boy now, guess ya can take it.' He moved aside to show me all the shallow cuts and burns – probably from his lighter that were all over my father's body. Not forgetting the bruises from the vicious beating he'd given him. His head, his torso were black and blue. His face – beaten to a pulp – almost unrecognisable. Amazingly, he'd still been conscious when Merle killed him.  
How could I have not heard anything from the shower? Could I have stopped him?

I started to cry again – not for myself and not for the Dad who'd done those sick things to me but for the Daddy our father used to be. The one that took us hunting and taught us how to read tracks and the spoor of wild animals. Who told us bedtimes stories about Indians and cowboys, who taught us baseball in the garden. Who built us the tree house that was still there - with his bare hands and a few planks of wood from a skip. Who would never ever hurt us – the most he'd done was yell occasionally. We'd been dirt poor but we'd been a normal loving family, once upon a time.  
Because he hadn't always been a monster before he lost his job and couldn't get another. After that came more drinking and drugs after Mama went.

Fuck – it felt like I was crying more on this one day than I'd cried in the last ten years. I didn't care that my brother was there. That Dixons never cry.  
I was mourning all that I – we - had lost - as I slumped to the floor against the wall, pulling my knees up to my chest. Wrapping my arms round them. My innocence, my parents, my hope as I stared at my father's mutilated and bloody corpse – right in front of me.

Merle didn't say anything. Didn't tell me to Toughen the fuck up or Stop being a little sissy, Darlena.  
Didn't say he was sorry for doing what he'd done or for letting me see it either.  
Then again, I didn't really expect him to. He just slid down beside me and without a word, put his arms around me. And I flinched because of my injured ribs but it didn't matter. He just held me as he pulled me away from the wall and round so that he was facing Dad's corpse instead of me. Then he started to rock me back and forth like I was a little baby again. 

While our father stared at us accusingly from beyond the grave. Because I could still feel his lifeless eyes burning two holes into my back so I buried my bruised face -even though it hurt – because I needed the feeling of comfort and safety more - in my big brother's chest to hide away from Dad.

'Cos Merle never blamed me. Didn't hate me like our father said he would.  
Only blamed Dad.  
Taken revenge on him for me. The proof of his love for me.

He'd killed him for me. So that I would be safe. 

Be free.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to post most of what I've got – I'm still revising the rest of it. Anyway, here's Chapter 3 with some sweet Merle/Daryl love because I don't want this story to be all angsty pain and suffering with no hope. Also a face from the series turns up, throwing into question Merle's character because how different is he to his father, anyway?
> 
> Enjoy!

I'm just going to post most of what I've got – I'm still revising the rest of it. Anyway, here's Chapter 3 with some sweet Merle/Daryl love because I don't want this story to be all angsty pain and suffering with no hope. Also a face from the series turns up, throwing into question Merle's character because how different is he to his father, anyway?

Enjoy!

i.

We were driving along, spinning as fast as we could to get away from that house.

Merle looked sideways at me with concern. 'Ya alright, Daryl?'

'Fine.' I slumped low in the seat. 'I hadn't slept well since we'd disposed of Dad's body because everytime I closed my eyes I saw him. Or specifically – what Merle had done to him.

We still had to wait a couple of days praying in the meantime that none of Daddy's drinking buddies would come looking for them.

We were lucky. They didn't. We would have just kept our heads down and pretended we weren't at home anyway. But this would have created suspicion 'cos everyone knew that Dixons didn't have no money – didn't go away anywhere so I didn't know if it was a good idea us running away - wouldn't it look suspicious immediately after Dad vanished? But Merle shrugged his shoulders. 'No-one gonna care about that worthless piece of shit, don't worry, little brother. Anyway ain't nobody gonna talk. They all know how he used to beat the shit out of us.' Merle himself disappeared from time to time without telling us where he went or what he was doing. But he always came back with wads of cash he used to take me out and buy me clothes and stuff. Like a decent meal

Merle had found some industrial acid from somewhere and we'd put him the bath and let it do its work. Then got rid of the icky bone fragments left – poured them into the septic tank out back to dissolve slowly. I'd nearly gagged when we'd done that.

And I'd never asked my brother how he knew about this stuff – getting rid of bodies and shit because I was dreading knowing the answer. I knew that he'd hung round with pretty questionable people in the past – even worked for them for a lot of money. And I didn't ever want to know what he'd done for them but right then, his knowledge came in very useful.

And I would be missed at school – probably nothing would happen. They were used to me being absent – happened a lot the times Dad beat the crap out of me when Merle wasn't around and I'd have to stay in bed, recovering. They knew but nobody gave a shit. We lived in a small hick hill village – weren't no Atlanta where they might actually give a shit about child abuse.

'Cos last thing we needed was the neighbours seeing us carry out a dead body in a dustbin liner. Although nobody talked to cops where we were from – it was best not to take chances.

No-one had rung 911 despite the screams and shouting. Where we were from, you kept you nose out of your neighbour's business and they extended to you the same courtesy.

But it wasn't every day that you murder your father. We were both new to this. Didn't know how this shit went down.

'I'm not sorry for what I did. Bastard deserved it. Everything.' Merle growled as his hands tensely clutched the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. And I knew he was still furious with our father – regretting making his death so quick. While he looked straight ahead at the country road, not at me.

'I know.' I said. By Everything - Merle meant the part where he'd stabbed Dad between the legs – attacking that very body part he'd used to hurt me so badly - apart from the other forms of torture he'd subjected him to. I forgave him because I knew why he'd done it. He'd loved our father but he'd done it for me.

And if it had been the other way round – if I'd found my father doing that to my little brother – or my sister - I can't say I blamed him because I would have probably done the same.

He ruffled my hair while I squirmed as a reward for my understanding. He knew that everything was all right between us again. 'Leave that shit out, Merle.' I protested irritably.

'Come here.' He urged my head slowly down onto his lap with one arm, careful of the bruises on my face. I pretended I didn't want to but I did.

I started to doze off as his hand started to drift through my hair – back and forth. Stroking me to sleep. It felt nice. Safe even, which was something I hadn't felt for a long time.

Nothing like Dad's creepy caresses that always made my skin crawl.

While he kept one hand on the steering wheel- driving with one hand - like he usually did. 'Cos he normally had a roll-up or a beer bottle in the other. And anyway, he could drive one-handed through these country back-lanes – hardly anyone passed through. No cops to pull us over and ask awkward questions.

We were going the long way round – hoping to avoid attention in case there was a police investigation later for our missing father. Hopefully, no one would miss him for a few days at least. He hadn't had many friends.

We got out at a service station. Where I checked myself.

Yep – I was still bleeding even after two days after it happened but the flow was slowing at last. I hadn't been that worried - it wasn't the longest by far I'd bled after one of Dad's 'special punishments'. I still felt icky and yucky though – the sticky blood was disgusting. With a sigh, I pushed another wad of tissues into my underwear. At least the pain inside me was fading.

My bruises too – slightly. Especially the red marks around my neck. And miraculously - it looked like my ribs were only bruised – they'd take a few days – maybe a week or two to heal, I knew from bitter experience. I'd taken Dad's drugs stash with me – I didn't know what the different pills of various colours and sizes were but Merle said that some shit would act like painkillers and help me sleep because every breath still hurt like a bitch. But I was worried about getting addicted to them so I tried to put up with the pain as long as possible before doses. Except I couldn't sleep with it so I took one or two Merle told me to take at night and I slept the whole night through.

But the cashier still looked at me funny when I went in to get the cheapest snacks I could find. Potato chips, Herschey bars – a couple of sandwiches - that kind of thing. Dixons didn't do healthy. Energy drinks for the road for whichever one of us was driving. We didn't know where we were going – were just going to keep driving south. And despite our lack of money. Didn't have money for a motel room – and soon we'd have to fill up the tank again.

But Merle insisted on beer and smokes.

Of course he did.

ii.

Andrea got in the back – not knowing if she was making a big mistake. The tall blonde guy – lean and muscular - he looked rough was about her age - looked dangerous but then he'd warned her about the dangerous neighbourhood at night. Or was that just a ploy to get her to trust him so that he could rape and murder her later?

She'd been walking in this village at the back of nowhere visiting an old school friend. She'd only been here a half a day and she was already bored out of her mind. She'd gone to a local bar – her friend didn't want to go, she had a bad cold and Andrea was more than a little tipsy. A couple of dirty, rough looking men had chatted her up – but she'd politely declined.

She'd expected to be able to get a taxi back to the train station to get her train – hadn't realised that there weren't any this late, this far out. And the station – even if she knew where it was – was far too away for her to walk to and she had already probably missed the last train until the morning.

God – I hate this stupid hillybilly place! Where she'd felt people's aggressive stares on her all day long. And she could barely understand them sometimes – their accents were so thick. And they spoke this stupid drawling dialect...

She was stumbling along the side of the road. She'd kicked off her shoes – they were pinching her feet so she was carrying them in her hands. Didn't matter - it was a hot summer's night in Georgia when she heard the wolf whistle behind her and the beat up chevy drawing up.

She immediately panicked , her heart started to race – maybe it was a bad man. Should she turn and run for the woods?

'Hey, Lady!' A voice (she immediately identified as redneck) called after her. This scared her even more.

'Go away!' She crossed her arms and ignored him. Carried on walking while the Chevy trailed slowly after her.

'Ya don't wanna be walkin' round alone late at night round here. That bar ya came from has a bad reputation.'

'I'm OK. I got my ride. He'll be here in a minute.' She lied.

'Where is he?' The redneck laughed to show he didn't believe her. She stopped and he drew up to her. She saw he was a young man (Viking) strikingly handsome. 'He ain't comin', is he? Ah, poor little rich girl, all alone. Away from home, outta the big city.' He drawled, mocking her.

She looked into those twinkling blue eyes. ' I ain't rich!' She snapped back. 'And I'm fine, thank-you very much!'

He sighed. 'Well, ya choice if ya wanna get raped and murdered.'

She looked at him – he seemed dangerous somehow. And he was rough and he leered her as his looked her body up and down. Taking in her slim curves with an appreciative eye. Because Andrea always looked after herself – ate right, went to the gym, joined yoga classes. And she didn't mix with these types of people – rednecks, hillybillies – didn't know how to deal with them.

He shrugged. 'Ya choice. Ain't no taxis around here. Where do ya wanna go? I can take ya if it's someplace South. I don't really have a plan. Like Atlanta for instance?' He guessed.

'I'm fine, thanks.' She carried on walking.

Behind her, one of the men she'd turned down was stalking her in the shadows but she didn't see him. He was waiting to take his chance when the Chevy was gone. If she didn't get in it, that was.

'And ya can pay me back in other ways if ya get my drift.' He waggled his tongue obscenely at her.

'Ugh.' She sneered at him in disgust. Started to walk away while he trailed her slowly. 'Fuck you.'

He shrugged. 'With pleasure.' He sniggered dirtily. 'Or ya got money then? 'Cos ya don't sound like ya from around here.' He took in her designer clothes, her Louis Vuitton (genuine) handbag. Her salon-pampered blond curls and her red, genuine leather shoes.

'Yeah...'he drawled.'Ya a rich city girl from the city, ain't ya? What's a girl like ya doin' round here with all us poor folks?'

She continued to stubbornly ignore him so he gave up. 'Bye then, hope nothin' bad happens to ya.' His parting shot as he was about to drive off.

Behind her in the shadows the other man pricked up his ears. Stupid slut wasn't going to take the offer. Rich bitch from the city thinks she's too good for me? I'm gonna make her scream and not in a good way, either.

'Wait.' Despite all her instincts screaming No! He's dangerous, crazy! Remembering her mother telling her not to get into strange men's cars since she was small because men were dangerous. And he was a redneck. But she patted the gun she had in her handbag, just in case he turned nasty. She was done being afraid. After all, she'd taken self-defence women's classes recently so she felt confident she could handle herself. Wanted to try out her skills.

In fact, he'd already leered at her and made a (serious?) indecent proposal to her. He was clearly a pervert.

She would just have to toughen the fuck up. Not let this rough man scare her or show that he intimidated her.

But he was kind of sexy too. And she'd come here for an adventure, away from her 'safe' life in Atlanta.

He stopped. 'Can ya take me back to Atlanta?'

Behind her, her stalker hissed in frustration and swore. But she never saw him.

'Ya got money? See- I'd be a gentleman and not ask but I'm kinda desperate.' I need it for Daryl, he was thinking. He guffawed then as if he had told her the world's funniest joke.

'Sure. 50 dollars do?'

'How about 150?' He'd already run out of smokes and beer.

' OK. 'She shrugged at the extortionate amount. It was best not to antagonise this fierce redneck who she sensed could turn nasty any minute. She only had 200 on her. She passed the 150 to him as she got in the back trying to find space amongst all the empty beer bottles and fast food cartons.

Where she felt safer anyway. She could always get more money out when they got there.

If he doesn't rape me and mug me for the rest or kill me first, she thought. But she pushed her worries aside. Because this man did definitely not make her feel safe. Well, then she would shoot and kill him.

Then she saw the young boy for the first time when she got in - small and slim - about 14 or 15 she guessed, sleeping in the front seat, face turned to face her sideways. She hadn't known he was there. Suddenly the man turned aggressive when he saw her staring at him. 'What the fuck ya lookin' at? Got somethin' to say, do ya?' He snarled at her, making her immediately regret her decision to get into his truck. But she didn't miss how he unconsciously put out a warding hand between the youth and her.

'N-nothing.' She'd quickly looked away but not before giving a gasp as a passing car shone its lights into them. Because the kid looked like he'd had the shit beaten out of him, his face was sporting fading black and blue bruises, a split lip and there were fading red marks around his throat like he'd been garotted. She knew boys his age got into fights with one another all the time but this didn't look like a fist fight with a peer.

His injuries screamed abuse. They'd just done domestic abuse cases last semester.

Had the man done that to him? Kidnapped and tortured him?

Was he a serial killer? She thought as she was about to make her move and get out of the car. She started to panic.

Too late – it started moving.

Merle had noticed her shock when she saw Daryl and smirked at her discomfort.

'Who...who's that?' She stammered.

'My brother.' He replied sharply and something in his tone told her to shut up because he was obviously a topic not up for discussion. As he turned to face back to the road and they drove in an uneasy silence. They hadn't even exchanged names – a common courtesy. But this didn't seem important somehow.

She eventually dozed off but was woken up by the boy thrashing around in his seat.

'No...no...please don't make me...' He pleaded. 'Get off me...No...NO!' And she realised he was still asleep, having a bad dream.

'Calm the fuck down, Daryl!' The man hissed at him but the boy didn't wake up. Instead his flailing movements only got more desperate– he nearly hit the gear -stick forcing the redneck who swore loudly, to bring the car to a screeching halt (luckily this country road was empty) and turn off into a clearing near the forest edge.

'No!' Daryl screamed again in his sleep, still thrashing around like he was trying to escape something or someone, miraculously, still not waking up.

Andrea just stared, wondering if she should make her move now while the stranger (they still hadn't exchanged names) was distracted by his brother. Get out of the car and run. But where would she go? Nothing but miles and miles of forest on either side. She sensed the nearest town was days' walk away. Thoughts along the lines of those creepy, horror movies set in these kind of isolated areas where sadistic hillbillies preyed on sophisticated urban women like her came to her mind then.

The man hadn't hurt her (yet – she reminded herself) and she was probably safer with him and his battered and bruised brother who looked like he'd been dragged to hell and back.

'Sh...sh...' The man whispered but making no attempt to wake him up. 'Ya OK now.' He stroked his brother's hair back tenderly, 'Ya OK., boy.'

But Daryl only whimpered in his sleep in reply.

'It's OK. Merle's here.' He continued crooning to him – talking to him like he was a baby.

Why was he talking to him like that? And she started to think that maybe this Merle wasn't all bad if he was like this with his brother.

'Shouldn't you wake him up?' She timidly suggested. Knowing that this Daryl was a strictly off-limits topic.

'No. He needs his sleep. Besides, he always does this - he'll be OK in a minute.' He didn't tell her that he'd given Daryl one of their father's pills to make him sleep through the night.

He continued to soothe his brother's hair until he was quiet again. 'Merle's here. Ain't gonna let nothin' bad happen to ya.' After a while, Daryl calmed down after a couple of twitches and fell asleep – went back to snoring lightly.

Andrea was curious. These people looked like they were on the run from something.

Something bad.

'What happened to him?' She dared to ask.

Merle looked back at her and his eyes were glittering hard, unreadable.

'He's been through shit, that's what.'

'But he's getting better.' He added.

And she knew that she'd been scared of the man at first – still was, if truth be told. Had a feeling that he'd be capable of cold-blooded murder.

But isn't that why she'd got into his car? Because he has that air of menace, of danger crackling around him. She'd come out her looking for something other than her safe, always gentle, always asking permission first, -respectful -to- women- boyfriend. Also on the same law course in Atlanta.

She hadn't seen the boy with him.

And she knew that it wrong but the way he touched his brother even though it was the way a parent might comfort a small child – made her wonder what his hands would do if they caressed her breasts like that.

What they would feel like if he stuck his hands into her panties? His fingers inside her? At this thought, she wondered whether he be as gentle as he was with his brother or rough?

What if he talked dirty to her in that same gentle, crooning voice he'd used with him? Stroked her hair and...other parts of her body while he did it?

She'd go crazy, if he did, she knew it.

She hoped he'd be rough she thought as she felt the heat and the need rise from between her legs. Pushed away the images of rutting with him pushing her up against a tree in the forest nearby.

Fuck. Why was she thinking about sex now?

She turned her face away – hoping he somehow didn't sense her thoughts or see the blush heating her cheeks.

She woke up to find the car wasn't moving and Merle on top of her, pinning her down in the back of the car.

'Time to pay up.' He snarled.

iii.

Andrea

He was pinning me down roughly by my arms to the backseat and I knew I would have bruises. His breath stank of beer, his hard body was pressed against me and I felt mine responding.

His flint-grey eyes clashed with mine and I knew he was capable of killing me.

'Time to pay up.' He snarled. 'Ya pay with money and ya pay with ya...' He leered at my body.

I didn't struggle, stood my ground. Spat at him.

He smirked and released one arm to wipe his face. Held me pinned with one hand. I was expecting him to hit me. But he didn't/

'Feisty, ain't ya. I always like the ones who fight.'

'Fuck you.'

'We'll get to that in a minute.' He sneered.

'What do you want? I gave you the money.' Refusing to show fear.

'I need all of it. For him.' He jerked his hand back to his brother. 'But it don't matter. I'm just gonna take all of it anyway. Jus' like I take everythin' I want. Jus' like I'm gonna take you.'

He grabbed me painfully by the hair, opened the car door and threw me onto the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Daryl

He was calling to me again as I tried to run out the house. Didn't get far.

'Merle ain't here.' he sneered as he saw me looking round frantically for him. 'No point bleatin' for him.'

'Fuck ya, he's gonna kill ya one of these days when he finds out what ya doin'.' I snarled at him.

That earned me a slap that snapped the back of my head against the wall. I saw stars.

Then he laughed manically. 'He ain't ever gonna find out 'cos you'll never tell anyone that ya my little slut and I use ya whenever I want. And that ya so hot for it ya fuckin' moan and writhe like a whore 'cos ya like fuckin' ya own Daddy. Ya too ashamed. Merle would be disgusted with ya.'

'Ain't true! I fuckin' hate what ya do to me!' I screamed back, releasing all my pent-up rage. And it felt good. Then I instinctively cowered back, expecting to be punished for this outburst before I looked down at the ground. He was right, I was ashamed. Of letting him do his shit to me and not being big or strong enough yet to fight back. I was filthy, I was dirty.

I was nothing. No one. Always going to be a nobody.

He didn't punch me for this disrespect, as I expected, just smirked. Started undoing his belt and I couldn't help the whimper that stole past my lips. Fuck! I was such a pussy – just like Merle was always calling me.

But then seemed he seemed to reconsider. Grabbed me by the arm and manhandled me to the kitchen, even though I bitterly resisted, dragging my feet. Until he pinned me up against the wall in the hall and pressed himself against me. So I could feel how hard he already was. I shuddered.

The consequences of resistance were clear. The threat of rape always worked and I stopped struggling and nodded. Hating myself for my fear and for giving in to him so easily. Merle wouldn't have done, I was sure.

'Fuckin' little piece of worthless shit. Ya only good for that – for fuckin'. 'Cos ya weak, boy. Always whimperin' and whinin'. Merle never did.' He sneered at me.

Did you do it to Merle? I thought but didn't dare to ask. I couldn't bear the thought of my brother suffering through the rapes. But I didn't think so, somehow.

No, the bastard had left those special punishments for me and me alone. I didn't dwell on the reasons why.

'Daddy's got a nice treat for ya today.' He said in a soft, sing-song voice that made my flesh crawl now, because it was the same one he had used to read me bedtime stories when I was small. Talking to me like I was five years old again as he forced me to the floor. Tenderly stroked my hair until I wanted to scream in revulsion. Yanked my T-shirt off over my head and traced the scars he gave me when I was ten with his finger.

Bastard was proud of his handiwork.

'You'll never forget me, even when I'm dead. 'Cos ya got my marks on ya.'

'Fuck you. Ya can't live forever and then I'll forget all about ya! Merle too!' I snarled back.

He punched my kidneys about 6 times in the same place for that particular show of disrespect. I was proud of not crying out with the pain - I just grunted. But knew I'd probably be pissing blood for about a week afterwards.

Wouldn't be the first time either.

He seemed frustrated that he hadn't made me cry or beg yet.

'Ya stay there, don't move. Ya do, ya know what'll happen - I'll rip up ya insides with my cock.'

I said nothing because I knew he was deadly serious and kept my head down. Kept still like he ordered me.

He stepped over me to get the kitchen knife. Waved it in front of me.

Was he going to kill me? A wave of shame washed over me as I began to whimper.

He grabbed me spitefully by the hair. 'Shut up, cryin', ya littl' bitch.'

Merle! Why didn't ya ever notice what he was doing to me?Why are you always stoned and piss-drunk when you're at home?

Why are you never at home?

He straddled me. Slapped my the back of my head.

'Ready for ya treat?'

'Fuck off.'

He slammed my head down on the ground for that.

I felt the point of the knife pressing into the middle of my back – just lightly. Bastard was teasing me.

'Hmm...where shall I do it first?' He mused quietly to himself. Tracing the knife over my skin. There was no pain yet – just pressure but I couldn't help my body's reaction as I shuddered and instinctively tried to jerk away from the blade. Even though it was dangerous.

Probably going over my scars from the belt with it – sick fuck was obsessed with them.

'How about here?'

He suddenly moved the knife lower and I whimpered. Pulled down my jeans and I didn't resist – not when he had the knife . Just like he was undressing me when I was younger. Innocently putting me to bed except for the knife on my back.

Tugged my jeans off down my legs and feet. I knew what was coming next – what always came next lately.

'Ya don't like what I do to ya, maybe ya like this better?' He slit through both sides of my underwear then pulled it off. I started to struggle and he slashed my back – just one cut and not very deep. Still, the pain was excruciating. It was just a warning – fight me and I'll cut you deeper.

I started to sob in the shame and humiliation. And terror – what was he going to do with that knife?

Was he going to kill me? And part of me – I'm ashamed to say – was relieved that I wouldn't have to suffer his gropes or his violations anymore.

But I couldn't see what he was doing and this just added to my sense of panic. My breath came short and fast as my chest hitched in and out. Feeling like I couldn't breathe.

And I knew he was smiling – could hear it in his voice. He'd finally made me cry.

'Ya don't like me inside ya, maybe ya like this better? Better not move a muscle, boy – otherwise might do some serious damage.' He laughed then, mockingly.

He slid the point of the knife into my backside lightly over my skin. Then into me. He was fucking me with it!

Deeper and Deeper. I fought with myself not to panic – knowing any sudden movement was dangerous – that he was right.

I hoped that he hadn't done any serious damage already.

'Please...Daddy...'

'Shut the fuck up!' He hissed at me but he did take the knife out. Slowly and carefully.

Only to use it to slash my back again. This time a little deeper. I couldn't help screaming.

He punched me down.

'See, my little whore, I've made more! More scars!' He shouted triumphantly as I felt the burning sting of the cuts and the blood trickling down my stinging back.

I knew then he was crazy. If by some miracle, I hadn't realised before.

Then, he slowly started to reinsert the knife. 'Don't fuckin' move.' He warned me again but I couldn't help wondering - what if he cut me inside?

I whimpered. 'Daddy.....' I whined.

'What now? This is supposed to by ya treat, should be enjoyin' ya sweet self...Say ya want me inside ya otherwise I'll go all the way in with it and cut ya up inside.' But the knife stopped moving deeper inside me. Was still.

'Say it!' He yelled at me but he still didn't take the knife out of me. At least it wasn't moving.

'I want ya inside me, Dad!' I cried in tears of shame and humiliation. Him raping me was one thing but pretending that I wanted him to was another form of torture entirely.

He smiled then and slid the knife out of me and threw it carelessly across the kitchen floor. I saw my blood on it. Had he cut something inside me? Stupidly, I wondered dully if we were still going to use it for cooking after it'd been up my ass. This thought made me give out a few hysterical giggles and he seemed pleased with them because he didn't punish me. Just ruffled my hair. 'Good boy.' He praised me like I was a dog while I cringed away from his caresses. Then he reached for the jar of lube he'd naturally brought with him, when he'd dragged me into the kitchen. Started sticking his fingers inside me and stretching me. 'See how good Daddy is to ya, tryin' to make things easier on ya. Don't have to do this, ya know.'

'Fuck you!' I screamed in rage as well as pain.

I got a hard slap for that. 'Tell me again and sound like ya mean it.' He started to pull down his trousers and grease himself up. I trembled because I knew what was coming next.

'I want to hear ya moan, my sweet little whore. Like ya Mama did 'cos she ain't around no more 'cos of ya. Show me ya like it.' He whispered throatily in my ear, already entering me. I stiffened.

'Go on!' He ordered me before he started moving inside me. 'Go on, ya little slut, show ya Daddy ya like fuckin' him.'

And I'm ashamed to say I did what he said. Pretended that I wanted it, that I was enjoying it. I writhed and moaned, begged him for more like I was in training to be the world's greatest prostitute. And any time he thought my enthusiasm was flagging or he wasn't if truly convinced by my act or I cried out in pain - he'd punish me some more. Either by a heavy blow or getting really rough with me - going deeper and deeper until I felt like I was being ripped apart.

Or worse - he'd threaten to fuck me with the knife instead.

Finally - 'Maybe I should cut ya's off - not like ya need it. All I need ya for is ya sweet little mouth and ya tight little asshole.' He wondered aloud between ecstatic groans. 'Maybe I will one day if ya don't play nice.' He threatened, thrusting even deeper into me just before he came.

I whimpered pathetically at that. Hating myself for not being able to stop myself.

'No!' I heard myself scream as I woke up. It had been a nightmare but it was also a memory too – like so many of my bad dreams since his 'punishments' had gone up a whole new level. Because it had really happened - just like that. Word for word, blow by blow and after that time with the knife, I'd bled for weeks afterwards. Was about to go and see the doctor even if they did find out what my my father was doing to me but then the flow suddenly dried up and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I tried to stop myself from shaking and told myself that he was dead – my brother had killed him for me and it was just a bad memory. Then I realised that I was all alone in the car.

Merle! Where the fuck are ya, bro?

In my panic I tried to open the car door – tried to open all of them but he'd locked me in – of course he had.

I told myself that he probably just went to take a piss and suddenly I really needed to go too. We'd drunk all the beer – Merle more than me, of course and I wondered that he was still sober enough to drive. But he never seemed to get affected by beer no matter how much he drank.

ii

Andrea

'Ya got 10 seconds to tell me 'No. We're not gonna do this. Then we'll just get back in the car. If ya don't, it's too late and I'm not gonna stop. 10...9...8....' He was on top of me but apart from that not doing anything.

I looked at him, yanked his lips down to mine by his hair, wrapped my legs round him. My answer was clear.

'What about him?' I pointed to the car.

He sighed, got up and locked the door. Put the keys in his pocket. 'Keep him safe.' He muttered and grabbed my hand and pulled me into the woods. My tried to brush the dirt off from my dress and he smirked. 'Wouldn't bother if I was you.'

He dragged me to a clearing. The full moon illuminated it perfectly and it was a warm summer's night. So romantic. I thought sarcastically.

'How we gonna do this? Ya like it rough ...or not so rough?' He snarled. 'Cos I only do rough.' He sniggered.'In case ya hadn't guessed by now.'

'Rough.' Because Daniel was always so gentle and respectful that sometimes I just wanted to scream when we were together. His soft touches just failed to turn me on at times.

I wanted something else. Wasn't that why I went to that bar alone? Subconsciously planned it so that I wouldn't get a taxi so that I'd be stranded in the wrong place with the wrong people?

Instead I'd met this young, handsome terrifying redneck and his mysterious teenage brother who looked like someone had beaten ten bells out of him. Looked like they were fleeing something.

'OK then.' He slammed me against the tree, just like I'd seen in my fantasy, his hands all over me while his tongue danced in my mouth.

Then he was kissing my neck or more accurately, he was biting it and I knew I would also have bright red hickies tomorrow. Why the hell didn't I bring a scarf?

He attacked my breasts, making me moan and arch my neck. Before he went back to kissing me again.

Then he shoved his fingers into my underwear before checking how wet I was. 'Ready?' he asked when I ground myself against him and moaned. Didn't need to use words.

'Soakin.' He answered his own question.

'Talk to me like you did to your brother.' He drew back. 'What?'

'Use that voice.' I ordered him. He crooned filth to me while he pounded into me against the tree, holding me up there, then he took me and threw me down on the ground. I screamed out my orgasm into the forest. And took me that way. I screamed again.

When we got back to the car, I could hardly walk. Merle smirked at me and we exchanged secret smiles. But then we saw Daryl banging on the window in a panic.

Merle rushed to open the side of his door. 'OK, OK. No need to panic.'

'I had a bad dream and when I woke up I thought you'd gone and left me...locked in here...' He was hyperventilating – his chest hitching in and out.

'Calm down, little brother. No need to get ya panties in a twist.'

Then he saw me in my filthy dress and messed up hair. My face with all smeared make up. No doubt I needed a shower. His eyebrows rose in surprise.'Who...who's she?'

'Someone who's paying us to take her back to Atlanta on our way to....to....' He didn't finish the sentence or bother to ask me my name.

'Andrea.' I introduced myself. The boy looked from me to Merle and rolled his eyes. It was obvious what we'd been doing. 'And you're Daryl, aren't you?'

He nodded and looked shyly down at the ground.

'Nice to meet you.' He said politely without meeting my eyes.

'Same to you.'

'Please.' Merle held the back door open for me. 'Ladies first.' He drawled in mock courtesy. Stressing the word 'Ladies' to let me know that he most definitely didn't think I was one.

I sneered back at him.


	5. Chapter 5

i.  
Andrea

They were in her nice 3 bedroom city apartment – because despite denying it – she was rich. And on her way to being a hotshot civil rights lawyer. Her parents gave a her a large monthly allowance so she didn't have to worry about money and she had a few days break before the beginning of the next semester. When they'd arrived in the city, she hadn't wanted to leave them – something about the brothers intrigued her. Especially Daryl – he seemed so frail and vulnerable with his haunted eyes. And so sweet that she'd really started to care about him too. She didn't want to call it pity or that she wanted to help them. But she wanted to know their story – what they were running from. They didn't even seem to have any idea where they were going. 

Besides, the sex with Merle was amazing, the best she'd ever had. 

Maybe she also saw it as a kind of 'fuck you' to her family and friends who would definitely not approve of her visitors. 

She was getting frisky with Merle when they heard Daryl next door. Sobbing in his sleep – he had been taking a nap before dinner.  
'Damn!' Merle cried out in frustration. 'How long is he going to keep up this shit for? Ya know he does it every night but he'd do it all night long if I didn't give him those fuckin' pills. Only way he gets any quality sleep. And he's gettin' used to them – and we're runnin' out.'  
Andrea reluctantly disentangled herself from him and sighed. 'You better go and see to him.'  
Merle put on some clothes.   
'You never told me what happened to him. Who beat him up like that.' She said before he went to his brother. Daryl's bruises had healed in the meantime. 'Who strangled him.'  
He turned back to her before he opened the door. 'I guess ya got ya suspicions. It's a very sad, very long and very fucked up story. Better leave it for another time.'  
She heard him next door.   
'Now, now. What's wrong? Merle's here, it's OK... It's OK.'

 

ii.

Daryl

I woke up with my brother impatiently shaking me from another nightmare in the guest bedroom of Andrea's Atlanta apartment – we had never lived anywhere so nice. Never even been in a place like this before. Clean white sheets, real marble worktops in the kitchen and a view of the city skyline and fancy food and drink in the fridge which me and Merle didn't like much, if truth be told. Complete with a huge bath that I loved to fill up with smelly bath salts and wallow in. Andrea was loaded. Lucky she and Merle hooked up although why a classy girl was with my brother, I had no idea. I just counted every day she put up with him as a blessing – didn't expect it to last. 'Cos Dixons was cursed, never had no luck. Then I noticed with surprise that my chest was hitching and my eyes and my pillow was soaking wet. Sobs and whimpering sounds were coming out of my mouth.   
Had I been crying in my sleep again? I functioned pretty well during the day – managed to push all thoughts of Dad away but then I couldn't seem to stop going back to the past in my dreams. Always dreamt of him practically every night. 

You'll never forget me, even when I'm dead. Ya got my marks on ya.

I own ya.

You'll always remember this as long as ya live.'

 

I shuddered and trembled. Was it ever going to stop? I was weak, just like he always said.  
Now my brother was cradling my head to his chest on the bed. His strong arms were around me, making me feel safe as my breathing slowly returned to normal. 'Fuck me Daryl, I know ya been through hell and back but it happened three weeks ago! I fuckin' killed him (he whispered this in my ear so Andrea wouldn't hear) and he can't hurt ya any more. And more importantly - it looks like we got away with it – he jus' upped and disappeared and no one gives a shit.' He guffawed. (We knew what the local cops at home were like. Couldn't find their own buttholes with their fingers - luckily for us)  
Ya should be startin' to get over it by now.' He kept on at me. But I couldn't help my subconscious or my dreams, could I?  
'I know. ' I told him. 'It's just that I dream of him every night.'  
He sighed. Then he brushed back a stray strand of hair from my forehead and shook me gently. 'Ya gotta toughen the fuck up, little Darlena. Ya Dixon, not a pussy! All this cryin' and shit...it's for weak people. And I know ya ain't weak. ''

I bowed my head and he hugged me harder to him.

 

iii  
Andrea

I heard the two of them in there – well most of what they said –what they whispered, I couldn't hear.  
'Merle?'  
He looked up at me, looking drained.  
'What happened to him? It was your father, wasn't it? Is that why you ran away because he's still a minor?'  
He nodded but his eyes blazed with hatred. The intensity of his rage made me instinctively draw back. If I made him angry enough or threatened his brother, I felt he was capable of killing me with his bare hands without looking twice.  
'Just had to get the fuck outta there.'  
'And he didn't just beat Daryl up did he?'  
'How do you know...?' He looked up in surprise.   
'It's pretty obvious.' I remembered the bright red marks on his neck. The things he'd said in his sleep.  
Merle hated the thought of what had been done to his brother being clear for everyone to see. 'I wish that's all he'd done to him. Which is bad enough. But no, Daddy was a sick fuck. Did fuckin' everythin' to little Darlena.'  
He didn't need to spell it out.   
'Poor boy. You know, you telling him to snap out of it isn't going to help. He's been through a lot of trauma.'  
'We've all been through a lot of trauma!' He snapped. 'Ain't nobody in life ever had a smooth ride.'  
'Three weeks isn't long enough. Three years probably isn't going to do it either.'  
'Well, it'll just have to, won't it?' He snapped. 'Daryl's a Dixon, and he's a tough little bastard even though he mightn't seem like it sometimes. Jus' needs time, is all.'  
'I'm just saying ...maybe you should be a bit more patient and understanding.....'  
'Ain't none of your damn business! I know how to deal with my baby brother. I know what he needs. And mollycoddlin' and wrappin' him up in cotton wool ain't gonna help because he's a Dixon and not a prissy pansy fag for fuck's sake.' He snapped at me.  
He was almost yelling and I knew that we were on dangerous ground.  
'OK, OK.' I put my hands up in surrender. 'What do you fancy for dinner?' I asked to change the subject.   
'Turkey pot pie and fries.' I rolled my eyes at his redneck taste in food.   
'Got any more beer?' He asked. 'Me and Daryl is thirsty.'  
'Help yourself.' He opened the fridge and opened one, handing it to her first while she started cooking.  
'Who says I ain't a gentleman?'  
She rolled her eyes. Kissed him on the lips, hers just brushing his until he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. Shoved her against the fridge while the cold beer bottle sat between them.   
'Ugh. Get a room.' Daryl had come in with his eyes rolling at this display of affection. He was only half joking too.  
'Little brother, when ya get a girl, ya'll understand.' Merle turned round and smirked at him.   
'I'm hungry. We got anythin' to eat?'  
'Jus' doin' it, sweetheart.' I said over my shoulder even though I knew that he wasn't that much younger than me but he seemed it.

iv

I came back from class and found them on the sofa together watching South Park. Daryl was stretched out with his head lying in his brother's lap while Merle stroked his dark hair almost absent-mindedly. He also had one arm protectively around Daryl. In case danger showed up even in the security of my own home with the wardens and porter downstairs.  
I stood back and watched this cute scene. Were brothers normally like this together? This close and affectionate? But then, most boys hadn't been through what Daryl had. No wonder Merle was different with him and Daryl needed him more than most boys needed their big brothers.   
He was all Daryl had and vice-versa. 

Somehow, Merle's little pep talk with him seemed to work. Maybe the Dixons were really different from everyone else because Daryl started to act out less in his sleep. Now it was only down to maybe twice or three times a week. Even those times when Merle would have to go in and calm him down were getting fewer and fewer and he was no longer taking the sleeping pills. Most nights now he slept right through like everyone else.

I marvelled at his strength when most people would have broken without years of therapy. Merle hadn't told me it all in detail but I could guess and the truth would be far worse than anything I could imagine. 

'Dinner's in the oven. Tuna pasta casserole. With green salad and a nice bottle of red.' Merle called out, not even looking back at me. Didn't stop stroking Daryl either. 'I know how ya only eat that healthy shit.'  
I ignored his snigger. 'Thanks.' I replied. Merle was actually quite a good cook, surprisingly.   
'And I bought something – put it on the table.' Daryl piped up from under Merle's hand. I went to see – a lovely bunch of pink roses in a vase and a small box of chocolates.  
'Thanks, Daryl! That's really sweet.' I called back to him and saw him give a small smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I was going to stop at Chapter 5 – seemed like a natural ending but I don't want this story to stop. Ever!

i.

Two weeks later

Daryl

I woke up to my brother shaking me but this time not from a nightmare about Dad. Those bad dreams had stopped thankfully and I couldn't even remember what I'd dreamt most days.  
'What is it, bro?' I asked sleepily. 'OK - OK, I'm up.'  
'It's 10 o'clock!' My brother clucked like a mother hen, like I was late for school or something. I laughed inside at this image of Merle.  
'So?' I was a typical teenager – would sleep most of the hours of the day if I could. 'Get off me, will ya?' I snapped irritably at him.  
'So?' He said incredulously. 'She's gonna be back in two hours.'  
'Well? Why did ya wake me up for that for?'  
'Cos we're leavin'.'  
'Wha...what?' I sat up then in shock. I'd got used to it here, the city, the energy – the rush of people. But I didn't belong here, couldn't stay. However, Andrea was the best that Merle was ever going to find. I still couldn't believe that they were together.  
'Why?'  
'Well....ya all better now and it's time to leave.'  
'What about Andrea?'  
'She was a good lay but now it's over. Weren't never gonna work long-term anyway. 'Sides her ex is sniffin' round and I think we've outstayed our welcome.'  
I cringed at that because Andrea had been really good to us, put us up and fed us for nothing and I felt she deserved a bit more respect than that. But I knew my brother but I was different because when I found a girl, it would be for real. For keeps.  
'So, start packing, little brother.' He ruffled my hair. To be honest, I know what he meant, I'd enjoyed this time in the city but I was missing the forest already – was out of practice with my crossbow, my fingers were itching to track some prey. Shoot our own dinner, not for it to come sterile, pre-packaged in plastic – Dixon style.  
I got up and got dressed. Merle slammed down some toast and jam on the table for my breakfast. And a cup of black coffee – two sugars just how I liked it in the mornings.  
'Eat.' He ordered me curtly. 'Ya packed?'  
'Yeah.' It had taken me all of five minutes to gather my meagre belongings together. Throw them into a holdall.  
'We goin' without even sayin' goodbye? Without leavin' a note?' I said between mouthfuls. Damn, I was hungry – had put on a little weight – my gaunt cheeks had filled out now that Dad was gone and I'd even had a growth spurt. My appetite had increased now I didn't have to worry about him and what he was going to do to me next and my stomach no longer churned like a tumble dryer making me nauseous and unable to eat.  
'Yeah. Less painful all round that way. Eat up, boy. Ya want some more?'  
'Yeah.' He put another couple of slices in the toaster. 'What ya want on them?'  
'Nutella – if there's any left.'  
'OK.' He found some in the store cupboard.  
'Glad to see ya eatin'. Don't look like a skinny little scarecrow, no more do ya, hey Darlena?'  
I nodded. He grinned. Ruffled my hair again fondly while I protested. 

 

ii.

Daryl

Andrea was going to be back in about 30 minutes after we got in the car.  
With a shock I noticed what was piled up the backseat. I suspected that there was more in the boot.  
'Wha...what?' I stammered. 'What's all this stuff? Her stuff? What ya done, Merle?'  
He turned away, wouldn't meet my eyes. 'Bitch is rich.' He said simply. 'Can afford it.'  
I looked at the VCR player, videos and CD's, books and the TV, even the damn microwave amongst other stuff.  
'She weren't no bitch! She was good to us, Merle.' I accused.  
He turned round and glared at me then. 'They all the same, don't ya know that, boy? Quit being a little girl, Daryl. She's rich, she ain't gonna miss any of it. Daddy jus' gonna buy her a new one.'  
'Ya don't know that. Take it back now.' I ordered him but it was no use so I grabbed the steering wheel and we skidded dangerously on the highway. Other drivers yelled and hooted at us furiously. 'Stop! We're going back!' I insisted but he slapped me hard sideways then and I let go. Rubbed my face.  
'I didn't want to do that but ya know what I did for ya...'  
'I know.' He meant he'd killed Dad for me and disposed of the body.  
'It still ain't right!' I yelled.  
'Shut ya little mouth, Darlena. I saved ya and I'm gonna make sure ya stay safe. That's why we need her shit to sell, OK?'  
'Don't put this on me, make out ya did it for me. You're a thievin' asshole.' I snarled at him as I slumped back in the seat, scowling. Crossed my arms over my chest and refused to speak to him for the rest of the journey.  
Wherever the hell we were going. 

iii.  
Merle

How dare he look at me like that after everything I did for him? I killed our father for him for fuck's sake when I had loved Dad despite everything he did to us. But not after I came home and saw what he was doing to Daryl. Weren't no gentle grooming or slow seduction either – was pure sadistic torture. Then the love vanished suddenly and was replaced only by rage and hatred. I still didn't regret what I did – how I made sure that he felt at least some of the pain he'd inflicted on Daryl before I put him out of his misery. But it would never be enough, still better than the bastard deserved.  
That was the worst day of my life and the image of them together was burnt forever into my memory.  
Did that mean I had always loved my little brother more?  
I didn't know. All knew that I would kill anyone who hurt him or even so much as threatened him. I'd felt like this about him since he was a baby – had protected him from the old man enough times.  
Yes – I'd enjoyed myself with Andrea, she'd been generous and we'd had fun together – she was a hot vixen in bed – was willing to try most things. I had liked that about her but now it was time to move on.  
To leave. Because Dixons didn't belong in cities. Everything in us was harkening us back to the forest, the fresh air, the mountains – to nature. But it had given Daryl the time he needed to get over what Dad did to him.  
I looked over at him but he deliberately ignored me. How long was he going to sulk for? Just because I had taken a few things from Andrea who was rich enough not to care?  
It was all for him anyway, why couldn't he see?  
When we stopped, I tried to grab him, pull him towards my chest but he resisted and I as sure as hell wasn't going to force him – not after what I saw Dad doing to him on that day. So I let him go and he slumped against the seat.  
'Daryl...'  
'What?' He answered belligerently and part of me couldn't help rejoice when I saw that he was back to his old tough self. That familiar hard glint in his eye had replaced his former air of fragility and vulnerability. Baby boy Dixon was back.  
'Nothin'.' I muttered because he'd rounded on me in fury. 'I ain't talkiin' to ya. Andrea was nice - she didn't deserve any of it.' He declared and I wondered how long he was going to keep up this shit for. All over a woman and there were plenty of them in the world. 'Fine.' I shrugged as if I didn't care.  
We were heading back to the mountains – the life we knew. After a few hours of awkward silence when I knew Daryl was only pretending to be asleep, we saw her waiting at the roadside. Looking all of 15 with a small backpack.  
My brother came to life as soon as he spotted her with her thumb out. 'Merle!' He cried.  
'OK...OK, just hope she's not a serial killer or a psycho.' I laughed at my own poor joke. 'Got to be careful who ya pick up these days.' He rolled his eyes at this but least I'd finally got a reaction out of him.  
A pretty girl with long, dark hair but her face was partly hidden by her parka hood.  
I stopped because it was raining heavily and the girl was shivering.  
'Where ya goin', honey?' I stuck my head out the window, tried to appear as non-threatening as possible. Believe it or not - I could be charming when I wanted to be. Too young for me to mess around with anyway. She looked down and I could tell she was shy. 'Nowhere. I mean - I don't care.'  
'It's OK - we don't bite. Get in the back if ya can find room, sweetheart.' I told her. 'This here's my brother.'  
'Nice to meet you.' She shook hands with Daryl.  
'I'm Daryl.' He said while I glared at him for giving his real name. Boy was just too trusting sometimes.  
'Name's Katrina.' She replied but I was pretty sure it wasn't her real name. Girl had a more streetwise look about her than my brother – hell, she'd probably been living on the streets. Had that dishevelled, wary runaway look about her.  
'Ya OK in the back?' I asked her.  
'Fine, Sir.'  
'Ya don't have to call me that. Name's Johnnie.' Now it was my brother's turn to look at me in surprise. I smirked at him to let him know to keep quiet.  
'Do ya smoke or drink beer, Katrina?'  
She shrugged. 'Both if they're goin'.'  
Daryl handed her the packet and she lit up with her own lighter. Then he opened her a bottle and handed her.  
'Thanks.' She said but her eyes were still guarded.

What was her story? Looked like she was running from something too.

Something bad. Just like us a few weeks ago.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

i

Daryl

We sat round the campfire with our beers and our smokes when Merle edged closer and drew me to him. I had just put out my cigarette on the grass of the field we'd stopped in and I was still furious with him. I tensed at first but then I let him do whatever he wanted. So he pulled my head down onto his lap before he began to touch my hair like he usually did. Running his fingers through it and brushing it back, tidying it up before stroking it back and forth. And repeating the pattern again, over and over until I felt like dozing off. Like he'd done so often after he found me and Dad together that last time until my body stopped trembling and my panicky breathing slowed and with it, the pain – at first physical as well as mental, faded. Because he always knew how to make it all go away. Make me forget for a while so I could sleep. One hand now, never letting go of his beer, of course, which he kept swigging from. I knew part of why he was doing it was to apologise for the slap earlier because he would never actually say he was sorry. Or say all the things he said with his hands – never with his mouth - that he he wish he'd caught Dad earlier, that he had been there more for me. That he'd been a big brother that I felt I could confide in, that he'd got us out of there long ago and got us our own place together instead of letting Dad do his sick, fucked-up shit to me. But then I had never heard him apologise for anything in his life before and it didn't matter. Because he'd hold me and stroke me like this for hours at times - sometimes on my bed, in front of the TV or in the car and other places since he'd found out what Dad was doing to me and I sighed in defeat because it just felt too damn good.

When nobody except Mama had ever touched me like that for a long time. I even snuggled closer to him despite my anger about what we'd done to Andrea. Somehow – although it sounded crazy- I knew that him doing this had helped chase away my nightmares faster because I hadn't had one for so long. As he'd done it practically every day like he was trying to make up for every sleazy caress of Dad's.

Or for every one of our father's perverted punishments or beatings when he hadn't been there to stop them. And I sensed Merle smirk at our hitchhiker, even though I couldn't see his face, as he tossed her one of his precious beers, challenging her to comment on this display.

But it felt nice, it felt good.

Most of all it made me feel safe and I gave in to the warm feelings of being loved and the waves of affection washing over me. Despite myself, even though I was still seriously pissed at him , I felt my anger reluctantly fade away.

But that was my big brother all over – he'd never loved a woman or cared about them, I think I was the only person in the world he was capable of loving. He only used and abused them like they were his personal playthings or his ATM. Even so, part of me had hoped that he did generally care about Andrea because he had seemed to actually like and respect her more than the others. Because she dared to stand up to him and point out when she thought he was in the wrong. But he'd still stolen from her.

Katrina didn't look surprised – as settled herself down on the other side of the fire. Looked bored even or was she trying to hard to seem that way? As she nursed her beer bottle between her legs between her long skirts.

But I noticed she kept a safe distance.

'So, what's ya story, girl?' My brother drawled at her, still caressing me on his lap making my eyes start to close in contentment, 'Where's ya family? What ya runnin' away from?'

'What are you?' She retorted rudely then clashed eyes with my brother and she glanced down at me. 'I mean – I don't want to sound rude and I'm grateful for the ride an' all but I'd rather not talk about it.'

Merle shrugged. Took a big swig from his bottle. Backed off when he saw he had touched a nerve. 'OK, then. We're all entitled to our secrets, ain't we, Daryl?' He looked down at me meaningfully as our shared secret passed between us and I couldn't help trembling at that. Remembering how he'd found me with Dad and what we'd done. Kicked myself for being so easily affected – all anyone had to do was mention my father and I started reacting like a scared little kid again. Like he was still there. I really was a sissy, a pussy, but to my surprise my brother didn't call me that – instead he hugged me closer to him then.

'Now girl, I don't mean to sound like an asshole but we're kind of desperate. That means that if ya gonna keep ridin' with us, ya gotta earn ya keep.'

She immediately stiffened and I sensed something dark flutter across her mind even though it was dusk and I couldn't see her face clearly. 'What do ya mean?'

'No, no ain't nothin' like that. I ain't gonna touch ya or do anythin' like that, I promise.' Merle understood her fear immediately and dismissed it. 'But ya see, we ain't got no money until we can sell the shit in the car. Now, ya been on the streets a while by the looks of ya...' He looked at her unwashed hair and her dirt-encrusted clothes. She hadn't smelled too fresh in the car either. Probably none of us did after 2 days on the road. The days were starting to get warmer too.

I didn't know why we just didn't go back home – they'd obviously decided that Dad was just a missing person or go somewhere else and settle down and find jobs. But he was right, we had no money.

She rolled her eyes. I knew he was lying – he'd stolen the petty cash from the tin in Andrea's cupboard but it probably wasn't much. Not for his booze and smokes requirements – not forgetting the drugs when he could get them. Must be getting jittery from his withdrawal symptoms by now.

'No...no I don't mean no offence by it. I mean – ya been around. I'm guessin'ya know how to survive – get food. Steal without getting caught and so on.'

She shrugged. 'I guess. And I don't want to be a passenger – I mean you've given me a ride and ya food and ya drink.'

'What I'm getting at, sweetie (I recognised that velvety tone he used when he was trying to seduce a woman or persuade her to do something questionable in bed) is do ya know how to rob a store without getting caught?'

She didn't even look shocked. 'Sure. I used to do it all the time with...with...' She stopped and I sensed this person or people she was talking about was still a painful subject. I'd always been good at figuring people out, hearing what they left unsaid. Filling in the blanks. Was she talking about her boyfriend or companions when something bad had happened to them? She was obviously a street kid.

I was starting to get drowsy, my lids were fluttering under his hand. Merle noticed this and stifled his own yawn. 'Time to sleep, kids.' He announced, carrying on this big brother/uncle act as he released me and shoved me away from him. I went back to my blanket on the ground nearby and lay down. Got comfortable, laying out one of the blankets we'd brought with us.

The girl did the same. We'd brought three blankets. Luckily, spring was drawing on after the short Georgian winter and the fire and our coats was enough to keep us warm.

What was it with Merle picking up these women? And did I really trust him with the girl my age?

ii.

Andrea

I came home to find most of my stuff gone and screamed in fury. Was about to pick up the phone to call the police. Then I noticed my PC in the corner with all my school work on it and dropped the receiver with a bang onto the desk. How considerate. I thought bitterly – the bastard knew how important it was for my career so he left me that but then I noticed the the piece of folded paper poking from the corner.

Sorry. I read. Thanks for everythingbut we didn't have no choice. Don't blame you if you want to call the cops but by the time they come, we'll be far away.

M. and D.

Merle! I screamed again. Not just from rage but a sense of loss to. I wasn't dumb enough to think that we were ever going to get married or anything like that but I had thought we at least had a special connection. And I found myself missing Daryl – his sweet smile in the mornings because I'd cared about him too. Had known that the brothers came as a package. I sighed, still debating with myself whether I should call the police until I heard the knocking on my door.

It was Daniel. He didn't know about Merle – I'd just dumped him and refused to see him – telling him that we'd grown apart since the holiday but not giving him any decent, real reason.

Yes – I'd been a bitch to him so I guess she deserved everything I got. Sometimes Karma was a bitch when she paid you back.

He came in, with a big bunch of roses. Trying his luck again but this time I'd let him in. But he was hesitant – not knowing whether to hug me or not until I threw her arms around him in relief. 'I've been robbed!' I cried. He looked round suspiciously. 'It doesn't look like they broke in.'   
I slapped my forehead dramatically. 'I am such an idiot – I must have forgot to lock the front door. The insurance'll never pay up now. Not worth phoning the police either – they'll just laugh at me.'  
'Come here.' He said as he wrapped his arms around me. 'I don't think you're an idiot. You could never be an idiot to me.' He kissed my forehead soothingly.

He came in, with a big bunch of roses. Trying his luck again but this time she'd let him in. But he washesitant – not knowing whether to hug her or not until she threw her arms around him in relief. 'I've been robbed!' She cried. He looked round suspiciously. 'It doesn't look like they broke in.'

She slapped her forehead dramatically. 'I am such an idiot – I must have forgot to lock the front door. The insurance'll never pay up now. Not worth phoning the police either – they'll just laugh at me.'

'Come here.' He said as he wrapped his arms around me 'I don't think you're an idiot. You could never be an idiot to me.' He kissed my forehead soothingly.

Then I remembered how special he was to me because Merle probably would have called me an idiot. And told me it was all my own fault. But wasn't it? Wasn't his refreshing honesty one of the things that had attracted me to him in the first place?

'I'm so sorry, I've been such a bitch to you.' I sobbed on his shoulder. ' Can you ever forgive me?'

His passionate yet tentative kisses raining down on my face answered me for him.

iii

Miranda – 'Mira' to people who were close to her in whom she confided her real name tried to sleep as she tossed and turned. Finally, with a sigh, she reluctantly opened her little tin box of dwindling pills – downers - to calm herself down. She'd been trying to save them. Maybe it was the man – despite his avuncular act and his promises she couldn't help being wary of him – sensed the undercurrent of danger and threat running through him. His whole body seemed to bristle with dangerous energy. The boy seemed harmless – was skinny – looked about her own age. But then didn't she always feel like this to most fully-grown men? She'd lived on the streets for long enough – had narrowly avoided a few scrapes with some of them until she figured out she needed to find a group for protection. But still living rough had been better than staying at home. At least she had some control over her own life and she'd found out that a young girl like herself was easy prey until she learnt to protect herself. So she felt for knife and found its reassuring point in the folds of her skirts – deep in her pocket where she could easily reach it if she needed it.

But the man – Johnnie so he called himself was snoring or was he just pretending to lull her into a false sense of security?

She didn't wonder about this for long as her own exhaustion and the valium finally kicked in after a while and she fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

i.

Mira  
I looked at the rough man – Johnnie and I still didn't trust him. But I blinked in surprise when he suddenly pulled his brother - who was about my age - to him. Started to stroke him like a pet animal on his lap with one hand and smirked at me, daring me to react. But I deliberately kept my face passive – I'd seen stranger things but I knew that brothers weren't usually this openly affectionate with one another once they were adults. Were usually worried about looking soft or gay or something but this Johnnie obviously didn't give a shit about what society said.  
They definitely weren't typical brothers. What had happened to make them so close? Despite the promise that I had long made to myself that I wouldn't care or risk getting involved with people who weren't mine, I started to wonder about their story.  
Strange but maybe it made a welcome change to see such love and devotion when all I'd seen on the streets lately was shit - hate and cruelty. And pain.  
Don't forget the pain – as the grief stabbed through me again and I pushed back the tears threatening to fall. Maybe the scene in front of me was affecting me more than usual.  
Fuck pain. Fuck grief.  
Johnnie's lips curled at the corners, daring me to comment on what he was doing.  
Daryl started to close his eyes – just like a cat – basking in the warmth of his brother's love and affection. The way he snuggled trustingly in his brother's lap made my heart nearly stop in my chest.  
I said nothing and Johnnie tossed me a beer. When he asked me about my story – I got defensive.  
Was it that obvious? I hoped it wasn't written on my forehead.  
All I wanted was a hot, clean shower be able to change into my clean clothes. Wash the ones I was wearing. No point until I could get myself clean. I needed to get money somehow. I was thinking as I drank my beer quickly.  
I knew that I stank and my hair was a greasy ball of rat's tails. The brothers hadn't smelled much sweeter either. Even a cheap motel room would be heaven.  
Eventually Johnnie pushed his brother away and Daryl stumbled dozily towards me, his lids already half closed - to lie between us. Somehow that made me feel safer even though he didn't look at me or speak to me.  
I took my pill and turned on my side, wondering if I'd be able to really relax despite the valium. The guy said he didn't have any sleazy intentions but I knew guys like him. They'd say anything to get what they wanted or to let you lower your guard so they could pounce.  
I was exhausted and the beer we'd drunk had relaxed me. I started to drift off wondering all the time if I'd wake up with the man on top off me, tearing at my clothes with his hand over my mouth. Getting off on having his brother sleeping nearby and demanding payback for the ride and the beer.  
He looked the type and I was already regretting my decision to get into the car with them. But I'd had no choice – soaked through and starving not that hunger wasn't my usual companion these days.  
Anyway, I told myself, I had my knife. Had fought off many guys like him before.  
The last thing I did before I drifted off to sleep was fondle my dagger in the pocket of my skirts. I had to be careful with it – didn't want to stab myself with it in my sleep because I slept on it wrong.

ii.  
Daryl  
He was stroking me in front of our passenger then he released me to sleep. I felt sleepy, already half way to dreamland as something made me take my sleeping position between him and the girl.  
I didn't quite trust him with her – knew how he was with girls. But he wasn't like our father, was he?  
I started to drift off myself but a memory was assaulting me.  
I knew why he did that stroking and holding shit. The guilt for not noticing, for not realising sooner. But how could he have imagined what was going on between Dad and me? And I could never tell him, maybe I believed the sick bastard's lies that he would never believe me or he would blame me and hate me forever. Now with hindsight, I realised it was just his way of making sure I kept silent about what he was doing to me.  
I felt stupid now – should have known that my big brother would have been on my side. Because he loved me. Wouldn't think I was a pussy or that I was gay or that I liked it for letting that asshole do it to me.  
I was remembering the time with the knife – this memory reared its ugly head before I could stop it. One of the worst times with Dad who'd only finally released me after what felt like hours but probably wasn't.   
I pulled my clothes on, even though I was bleeding heavily. From several places in fact.  
Was only blood after all.  
I was lying on my stomach on the bed - couldn't sit down on my ass or lie on my back – both were too painful. I was also trying to control my breathing and get my body to stop shaking. Nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the door bang and Merle loudly greet our father.  
Dad answering him, asking him how work was like nothing had happened. Just like he hadn't been sliding the knife torturously slowly into me and fucking me shortly afterwards a few minutes before. The sick fuck had always been a good actor, I thought bitterly to myself and Merle was so blind.  
Fuck him, didn't he see?  
I heard my brother's heavy steps pounding on the stairs and shortly after, he barged into my room without so much as a knock. I couldn't help cringing back when he stormed in.   
I flinched at nothing these days and it seemed like I couldn't do anything to stop it.  
He noticed this and frowned. 'What the fuck's wrong with ya, Darlena? Why ya lying like that?'  
I didn't bother to answer. Couldn't tell him. Didn't have the energy anyway but he didn't give up. 'Why so jumpy all of sudden?' He persisted. Typical Merle – wouldn't let a bone go once he had it.  
I didn't answer just looked down at the bed, traced its swirly pattern with my finger. Wishing he would just go away and leave me alone.   
'Hey!' Merle yelled in my face, annoyed with me for not answering him while I cowered back further against the wall. At least he seemed sober – I smelled no alcohol on his breath because he'd just got in from work - that must be why. 'I said what the fuck's wrong with ya, why ya tremblin' and shakin' like a little pussy?'  
I still didn't say anything – I was trying to be tough, really I was – to stop my fuckin' body betraying me but it wouldn't listen. I was still in pain deep inside and out but I ignored it. Not least because of the stinging slashes on my back that had only just now stopped bleeding. Maybe I could sneak down and steal one of Dad's drugs later for the pain and to help me sleep – I knew where he hid them. The bastard never noticed if I just took one or two if there were a lot left.  
Suddenly my brother grabbed me roughly by the chin and tilted my head up. I cowered away as he looked closely at my eyes where I could feel the wetness there threatening to fall. He had seen the tears in them that I was holding back!  
I wanted the ground to swallow me up if I let them fall in front of my big brother because I would never cry because of a mere whipping with the belt or a few cuts and bruises. I would never hear the end of it now because Dixons don't cry.  
'What's he done to make ya cry, huh? Must have been somethin' really bad.' Merle wasn't mocking me for once but sounding genuinely concerned.  
'No! Fuck off, Merle! No I ain't!' I snarled at him, jerking my head away and wiping my eyes furiously.   
His eyes told me that he wasn't buying that.  
'He ain't done nothin' and I ain't fuckin' cryin', ya moron! How many times do I have to tell ya before ya believe me!'' I was almost yelling at him. I didn't want him to know – couldn't bear the shame but at the same time I did. So that it would finally stop.  
'He hit ya again? Use the fuckin' belt on ya ?' His voice immediately rose in anger.  
'No!' I hissed back. I sneered at him and rolled my eyes to let him know that I wouldn't ever cry over a mere beating or whipping.  
'Ya lyin'? Let me see.' He tried to pull up my shirt but I growled at him as I fought him. In the tussle, he shoved me hard and I gave an involuntary gasp of pain as my back slammed into the wall. His eyebrows rose then before he turned me around roughly. I heard him hiss – probably he'd made my cuts start bleeding again and he could see the red stains spreading on the back of my shirt. 'What the fuck...? I heard him whisper in shock at the same time he started to yank up my shirt while I desperately tried to stop him. But he slapped my hands away then and I stopped resisting because I knew that Merle, like Dad, was still stronger than little, puny me. I hated being so weak and unable to fight back. Or stop them doing what they wanted to me. Even so, I could feel him staring at the new cuts – and I could feel the blood now dripping down my back again. Even worse - I couldn't stop the little sissy whimper of pain that escaped my lips when the shirt brushed my black and blue bruises as he pulled it up. Why wasn't he mocking me for showing weakness? I heard him swear under his breath when he turned me round and saw the the black and blue bruises over my kidneys. Afterwards, he carefully checked me all over – front and back.  
'Jesus fucked!' followed by 'I'm gonna kill him!' He snarled as he tugged my shirt down again. This time more gently, trying not cause me more pain than he needed to.  
'Merle...wait ...don't.' I begged. Now there'd be a fight and all over me. Worse - Dad would punish me for it the next chance he got. He'd think I'd tattled to my brother.  
'Don't worry, baby brother. I'm going to sort his out.' He let me go and got off my bed in one smooth movement.  
'But Merle...'  
'Bastard!' He suddenly shouted, ignoring me and making me recoil. But he wasn't directing it at me.  
'Merle!' I heard our father call, sounded worried. He'd heard him yell but probably didn't hear what he'd said. Was pretending not to, anyway. 'Can ya come and help me with somethin', son?'  
Bastard was worried that I'd tell him what he'd been doing to me so he'd made up some excuse to call him away. He always got nervous when we were alone together.  
Merle didn't bother to answer as he ran out of the room and I could tell that he was furious enough to commit murder as his heavy workboots thumped down the stairs.  
'Fuckin' bastard!' I heard him scream in rage at our father. 'What did ya do to him? Ya cut him ya sick fuck? And ya been hittin' him again, too, ain't ya? I told ya next time ya did ….' I heard the sounds of a scuffle and blows being exchanged. Raised voices. I didn't dare go downstairs – it seemed that lately they were always arguing over me.  
Because this was how my brother reacted when he thought Dad only cut me and hit me? Because he was sober and aware for once and I shivered when I imagined his reaction if he somehow found out about the other things he did to me.  
He'd kill him – if he didn't blame me first.  
I felt a shiver – but was it fear or hope?  
'He deserved it – ya don't know what he did...' The evil fuck was trying to think of an excuse but I couldn't hear what lies he came up with. Maybe I didn't want to know.  
I covered my ears with my hands and curled up into a little ball on my bed. Taking care to lie on my uninjured side while I felt the blood still trickling gently down my back. I prayed it would stop soon.  
Shutting out the pain and trying to sleep. At least until I could sneak down stairs and take something for it.   
Sometimes thought if I wasn't around anymore the world would be a better place.  
Not the for the first time I thought about running away – taking my chances on the streets.  
But I couldn't. Because Dixons weren't no cowards and Dixons don't run away.

iii.  
Daryl  
Another memory raised its ugly head before my mind finally let me sleep. And it was like a movie- video playing right in front of my eyes! And I couldn't do a thing to pause or stop it.  
We'd stuck his body in the acid bath, was waiting for his body to dissolve. The first night after Merle shot him – we were anxious to leave but we had to wait. Everytime I went to use the bathroom, I deliberately avoided looking at him. At least the stench of the chemicals masked what would have been the rotting odour of his bloated, decaying body under normal circumstances.  
But this time I clenched my fists and faced him. Was sick of letting him make me still so afraid of him even though he was fucking dead.  
'Fuck ya.' I snarled at him. Looking into his eyes – wanting – needing a response. But of course there was none. 'I'm glad he did it.' I spat at him. 'Wished he'd made ya suffer more first, ya sick fuck.'  
Then I stormed out of the bathroom. Feeling lighter somehow and that was the last time I turned away from him next time I needed to use the bathroom.  
Merle had been outside the bathroom door, had crept up on his brother silently but Daryl didn't know he was there. He secretly smiled to himself at this as he turned and left.  
The second night that we were trapped in that house the TV stopped working. No surprise there – it was only Merle who really made sure the bills were paid and sometimes he lapsed with the drinking and getting high and everything. We didn't care now that we were leaving as soon as we'd dealt with Dad's body.  
We had nothing to do so I got on my bed. Luckily we had some candles to light when it got too dark to see. I felt exhausted anyway, then Merle came in.  
'Lookee here, I got some real good stuff. We should celebrate, don't ya think, little brother? 'Cos we'll be outta here either tomorrow or the day after. Looks like no one called the cops either.'  
I looked at the small plastic bag he was holding. He opened it for me to sniff. 'Yeah, smells good. Where did ya get it?'  
'From Louie down the road. He got some fine shit delivered – from down South - a little more money than I usually pay but what the hell.'  
Merle started rolling the papers and filling them with the stuff from the bag with rolling tobacco. Then he lit one, took a deep drag while he examined my battered face closely. 'Ya still in pain, little bro?'  
I shrugged. 'A little. Not much, don't matter anyhow.' I lied. Dad's pills helped a little but I was still hurting deep inside. Still bleeding.  
'Here's ya one, it'll help.' He handed me the one he'd just rolled.  
A few spliffs later and a few beers, we were laughing and giggling like a couple of teenage girls. Rolling about on the bed while Merle told me dirty jokes – mostly about the girls he'd been with. Like nothing had happened and that he hadn't just killed our father and we weren't now dissolving his body in a bath full of acid.  
He was relaxed enough to put his arm around me and drag my head to his chest. I was still laughing and he looked pleased to see me smile – I hadn't in a long while. Starting stroking my hair like he'd do nearly everyday from then on. He'd never done this much before – what the fuck? I realised that he was different with me since he'd found me with Dad. It's not that he hadn't cared before – I mean he'd always tried to protect me when he was around but most of the time he was out doing his own thing. Or more often than not, when he was at home - he was too drunk and high to care if Dad did it to me right in front of him.  
'Ya don't have to worry about him anymore, little Darlena. Fucker's dead.' He said coldly, heartlessly. Like he'd never loved him.  
'Thanks, Merle.' I smiled up at him and giggled just as callously. Even though it was our father we were talking about.  
He ruffled my hair. 'We'll get out of this house and all its bad memories soon, don't ya worry, baby brother. Go someplace new – better – where we can start over. Again. Like none of this shit ever happened.'  
I nodded in relief as I started to doze off with his arm around me making me feel safe for the first time in so long and not dreading waking up the next day. My ear was against his chest where I could hear his heartbeat soothing me to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Mira

i.

I woke up when the sun started to light up the sky in the East. I patted myself down and felt myself over. Fumbling for my knife until I felt its reassuring blade. No, Johnnie or whatever his real name was had kept his promise, hadn't messed with me in the night. But it would have been risky with his brother sleeping who was turned towards me, still snoring lightly. '  
Merle was already up, boiling water in a pot over the fire.  
'Coffee?' He asked. 'We need to take turns – only got one cup between us.  
'You have coffee? Sure. Thanks.'  
He grinned. 'Yeah, amongst other stuff.'  
Thought ya said ya had no money?'  
'We don't have cash but ya seen the stuff in the car? We got loads of stuff 'donated' by a friend.' He handed me a steaming metal mug of black coffee.  
I narrowed my eyes. Knew he was a thief just like me – but we only did it because we were trying to survive. Had no other choice but I told myself I never stole from people. Wasn't sure that Merle could say the same.  
'Drink up. I need to make some for sleepyhead over there.' He gestured towards his brother, still fast asleep.  
Daryl roused himself, yawning. 'Who ya callin' sleepyhead?' He growled.  
'Wake up, little brother.' Johnnie almost sang the words cheerfully. 'We got to make money today 'cos we all need a shower and a decent bed to sleep in.'  
'Yeah – how we gonna do that? Sell Andrea's stuff that ya stole? Suppose she's reported us to the cops?'  
I turned to stare at Merle. I knew it. Guessing who this Andrea was. So it wasn't beneath him to rob from a friend or maybe even his girlfriend?  
He smirked at me but turned to glare at his younger brother. 'I told ya to keep ya mouth shut about that.'  
'Ya jus' a thievin' asshole! She took us in and fed us for weeks for free, Merle!'  
Now his brother was glaring at him for a very different reason. Ran at him and pounced on him before Daryl could even react. I thought he was going to hit him and cringed myself. But he didn't do that, he only took him by the shoulders and shook him furiously. 'What did I tell ya, ya stupid little shit! I said no real names. Bad enough she knows ya real name!'  
'Get the fuck off me, asshole. Who's she gonna tell? Anyway, we told Andrea our real names.'  
Merle let go of this brother's shirt. Shoved him angrily.  
'Yeah, well that was back before we got smarter.' Then he looked back at me. I shrugged to show that I didn't care. Really, I didn't – weren't none of my business.  
'Look- I don't care what ya names are. I ain't gonna tell anyone. I'm kinda on the run myself, incase ya hadn't noticed.'  
'Yeah – and ya better not. Cops could be looking for us.' Merle threatened me darkly.  
I shrugged. 'Me too. So we're all in the same boat.' I tried to calm things down.  
'Right, we need to sell this shit and move on.' He turned to more practical matters. We needed money desperately.  
'Where?' Daryl asked.  
'Dunno. Ain't go no contacts in this area but maybe I can make some phonecalls... find someone to take the stuff off us for a good price.  
'Ya a fuckin' bastard, Merle.' Daryl cursed him, suddenly lashing out. But instead of getting angry, Merle laughed.  
'I should hope so too, little brother. Me being a bastard saved ya didn't it?'  
What were they talking about? They were so intent on eyeballing each other, it was like they had forgotten I was there! Is that why they were on the road when they didn't look homeless. Looked like they had a home waiting for them somewhere nearby – judging by their accents. Didn't have that look in their eye that we got after a few a weeks on the streets. One that it was impossible to describe but we could recognise it and each other straightaway.  
'Ya didn't save me! Ya didn't even fuckin' notice for months – always drunk or stoned out of ya brains. Or out boozin' or screwin'. So stop actin' like a fuckin' hero and usin' it to make me feel guilty and do what ya want all the time!'  
'Stop ya squawkin', little Darlena. Ya want everyone to know our business?' Merle didn't get angry like I expected instead there was some other emotion on his face as he glanced meaningfully at me. Was it guilt? And why the hell was he calling Daryl that? It was obviously a putdown but one that sounded teasing and tender at the same time. 'Ya want some coffee, bro?' He took the cup from me.  
But Daryl turned his back on him. 'Fuck ya.' He snarled.

These brothers are weird, very weird. The way they were with each other. Spoke to one another – skirting round some deeply shared but unspoken pain.  
Maybe it was only because I was there and they didn't want me to know. Probably.  
But what was clear was the love that they had for each other.

ii.  
Daryl 

Later Johnnie – no I mean Merle – found a buyer and ordered us to stay in the car while he went into a neglected little house in a shady part of town. I was still fuming with him – I'd feel better when all the stuff that reminded me of Andrea was finally gone.  
Some lean black guy who looked like a pimp came out in a pink and white shell suit and dark shades high-fived him, all the gold bling around his neck glinting in the sunshine. I heard Merle say 'Hey, what's up, bro?' just like he knew him.  
The guy took the TV, the video-player, the videos, the mircowave and CD and cassette player but we'd have to find another buyer for the books. He refused them. But then he got curious after him and Merle had unloaded the boot - looked inside the car where we were trying to be as quiet as possible, not draw attention to ourselves like Merle told us to. Wanted as few people to remember us as possible.

Mira 

I heard him say 'She ya bitch, bro or she belong to the boy? It don't matter, maybe we can do a deal. She's hot – me and my homies would sure be interested if ya interested in makin' some extra dough.' Beside me, I heard Daryl growl and clench his fists. 'Dirty fuckin' bastard.' He muttered under his breath and glared balefully through the window but then Merle deliberately stood in front of window, blocking his view.  
'Nah, she ain't for sale. Got a special customer for that hot little ho, if ya know what I mean.' I heard him say and wink conspiratorially at him. I started to get worried – for all I knew – Merle did plan to sell me along with the books! But then he deliberately blocked the pimp's view by moving front of the car window even as he laughed dirtily. Apparently sharing a joke with the sleazebag.  
Mira why I 'd stayed with Daryl and his brother so long, it wasn't like they were my family. No, I'd lost them.  
A memory of laughing blue eyes and a wide smile, a tuft of blonde hair flashed before me then but I pushed it away. The grief was to raw in my mind – better stop it in its tracks otherwise I might let the tears fall.  
'Fuckin' black scum of the earth.' Merle snarled as he got in the car and slammed the driver's door. 'Don't know how I didn't punch him. - jus' 'cos we need the cash and we don't wanna attract attention. I fuckin' hate niggers – they're dumb as shit and filthy to go with it. Sellin' kids for fuck's sake!' He almost yelled.  
Interesting – I was seventeen years old and he still saw me as a 'kid' when most men saw me as a woman. Their eyes irresistably drawn to my breasts, my legs and my hair since I was 12 years old but true - I wasn't looking my best right then. But I'd been no kid when I ran away to live on the streets and after two years being homeless, I definitely wasn't one now. That's what the streets did to you.  
But I felt kind of warm inside – the way Daryl and Merle were outraged on my behalf - could it even be that Merle made me feel safe?  
'Bro – forget it.' Now Daryl was the one trying to calm him down.  
'Yeah – don't sweat. Forget it.' I added, ignoring the clear racism of Merle's rant. 'I've forgotten it already.'  
'Fuck that shit. We can sell the other crap tomorrow. We got enough money now. ' He showed us the open envelope and the wad of dollar bills.  
'Let's go get somethin' to eat and look around an' see what this piece of shit town has to offer in the way of somewhere decent to sleep.'  
Daryl and I nodded our heads enthusatically because more than food and drink – I longed to wash myself – buy some shampoo and shower gel and scrub my body. Wash my filthy clothes and change into my clean ones.  
Right then, the thought of a hot shower was heaven!

iii.

Mira

I took one bed, Merle and Daryl shared the other. We'd debated about getting separate rooms for them and me but in the end, I decided to save our money. So we shared a twin room, luckily the beds were pretty big. Of course, Merle didn't forget to remind me of my side of the bargain becaue the money he made today wouldn't last long with the three of us.  
I didn't worry about that now because anyway, I was feeling more at ease with them since Daryl had inadvertently revealed his brother's name. But I kept my name a secret- didn't want anyone to know. 

I fell into a comfortable, dreamless sleep, clean at last after the blissful shower. It felt like heaven to finally wash away the layers of grime and dirt – the water was black at first when it swirled down the drain. The brothers had courteously let me go first 'Ladies first' Merle had grinned mockingly at me and I didn't protest. I'd locked the door and put a chair under the handle out of long habit.That way I felt safer. But no-one disturbed me.  
I woke up dozily to hear a noise. You learnt to sleep lightly out on the streets for your own protection. It was shocked to realise that it was Daryl whimpering in his sleep. Merle was awake – did he wake him up too? But he turned his back to him, hoping he would stop if he ignored it, I knew. Done it enough times myself when we'd slept on the streets or under a bridge, in the subway and someone started crying in their sleep.  
'Jesus Fuck!' He muttered irritably to himself under his breath. 'Thought he'd stopped doin' that shit.'  
'Don't.' Daryl moaned and started flailing around. 'No! Daddy, don't!' He pleaded pathetically, getting louder as he kept tossing and turning until one arm hit his brother's back.  
'Fuckin' hell, baby brother!' Merle turned round and hissed at him but he still didn't wake up.  
'No! I won't! Don't make me! Fuck off, Dad!' Daryl was getting frantic now, even in his sleep. Still hadn't woken himself up.  
'Hush, hush now. Come here.' Merle hissed and hitched him none too gently to him. So that his little brother's head was resting on his chest. His hand hovering over his head, fluttering hesitantly until Daryl made a sound like a sob deep in his throat and Merle started stroking his hair. 'I got ya, I got ya. He's gone, he's fuckin' dead and he can't hurt ya no more.' He crooned in his ear. 'It's over. So how about quitting this shit, huh?' Daryl gave one last whimper like he'd heard him and quietened down, then, curling into his older brother. Merle must have sensed that I was awake and listening even in the darkness because suddenly I could feel him directly staring at me. 'Ya awake? Ya enjoyin' the freak show, huh?' He asked me fiercely in a low voice as he pulled his brother closer to him at the same time, still running his hand through his hair.  
I didn't answer him, just turned over. Tried to do it slowly like I was turning in my sleep. Somehow I thought that it would be safer but I knew that it was going to be difficult to fall back asleep again, partly because of my scars - they were burning and itching now– especially the ones on my forearms. Neither did Merle – I heard him whispering softly and soothingly to his brother but I couldn't hear what he was saying as I rubbed my them, until I heard Daryl's regular breathing as he finally fell into a calm, dreamless sleep. I knew without looking that Merle carried on stroking him for a very long time. Maybe all night even. At the same time, I knew I was too wound up to sleep – after hearing all this. I'd already taken the maximum dose of valium and I knew from experience, that if I took any more, I might not wake up for two days. Had happened before.  
Nothing for it but just try to sleep.  
I must have dozed off after all because I came to when it got light and I heard stirring. I turned round to see that Daryl hadn't moved and that he was still safely in his brother's arms.  
'What the fuck ya lookin' at?' Merle hissed and glared at me even while Daryl's eyes began to flutter open at the sound and he didn't seem to know where he was at first and looked surprised. God, I thought, that boy is so cute. Especially when his hair is all tousled and he's all disorientated when he wakes up. Did he see me that way? Didn't seem to barely notice me at all. I was thinking these thoughts even as I shrugged and lowered my eyes. Understood that I had seen something intimate that I had no business seeing. Had heard secrets I had no business hearing. Next I heard Daryl start to struggle to free himself from his brother when he saw me and his face flushed red in embarrassment. When he hadn't minded me seeing Merle show him affection round the campfire. 'What ya doin' Merle? Get the fuck off me, what are ya, a fuckin' fag?'' He snarled as he ordered his brother to let him go who I saw grin at this and release him, almost reluctantly. My heart nearly skipped a beat. Maybe I liked tough, badass Daryl even more than cute, disorientated and vulnerable Daryl but it was hard to choose between the two.

I rubbed my eyes, they felt gritty like there was sand in them. I knew what had happened to Daryl. To think that Merle would do it to me – as if. Explained why his brother was like that with him – most streetkids had run away because of similar stories. Why they'd rather take their chances out on the streets that adults said were so dangerous rather than live at home. I had a feeling that he could have been one of us easily if it hadn't been for his brother.

iv.  
Daryl

I woke up to find Merle with his arms around me like we were a couple of fags in front of her. Worse – I looked fuckin' weak. We must have slept like that – he'd put his arms around me sometime in the middle of the night. I wouldn't have cared if we'd been alone because nobody else knew how he was with me when it was just us two or how I needed him. They could never understand even if they tried. Now - don't get me wrong, I didn't have anything against homosexuals personally but I knew that I wasn't one and I didn't want them getting the wrong idea about me and coming onto me. Maybe the stuff Dad had said about him marking me had something to do with it as well. But why the hell was my brother still doing that? Because I was OK now, hadn't had any bad dreams about Dad for weeks. Why was I so worried about what she thought? I knew my brother could be a real pushy, sleazy asshole when it came to women, I didn't want him to come onto our hitchhiker. So much so sometimes that I was embarrassed to be related to him – were we really brothers? 'Cos he was always thinking about his next lay – he really lived by his dick. Strangely, a lot of girls seemed to dig my brother but I could never understand why. But at least he'd left Trina alone but then she was my age. Guess that even my big brother wouldn't sink that low. 

I hoped. 

I made him let me go, couldn't help lashing out at him because I felt embarrassed while Trina watched me out of the corner of her eye. I could swear she was laughing at me. And I never wanted to be laughed at by a girl.  
'What's so funny?' I asked, frowning at her.  
'Nothing.' She looked down and hid her grin behind her hands because she was shy like me. I noticed that her hair was dark blonde not the dirty brown colour I thought it was now that she'd had a chance to wash it. She looked better especially as she'd changed the clothes she'd been wearing for another long-sleeved sweater and long skirt – dark blue this time. 

I'd never kissed a girl before, I'd never let them. None of the slutty, underdressed skanks who'd come onto me in our school had ever been good enough for me, I'd been holding out for someone special. Wasn't going to be like my brother who screwed anything in a skirt that moved.

I really was sweet sixteen. 

If you didn't count Dad of course.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Merle and Mira drag Daryl further into crime, will they be caught one day? I mean, why doesn't Merle just find somewhere to settle down where they can pick up casual work? Or why don't they go home where they live in a house that's been bought and paid for ? Although, probably neither of them can live with the bad memories there.  
> Apparently nobody has filed a missing person's report on Daddy Dixon, nobody's noticed or maybe they just don't care. But has nobody noticed that Daryl is missing from school? Granted, he's missed school before so maybe they're used to it. It's the 1980's and instant communication and forsenics aren't what they are today. Moreover, people where Daryl and Merle are from don't volunteer information easily to the police. They keep each other's secrets basically.  
> Mira's feelings are growing for Daryl but does he feel the same? What's her story anyway and why does she have scars too all over her body?

i.

Mira

Merle glanced over at me after he released his brother. Daryl went straight to the bathroom.

'Now, girl. We need more money if ya want to stick with us. I'm pretty sure that you don't want to be sharing with us. How long ya been homeless, if ya don't mind me askin'?'

'Two years.' I didn't say that I'd got used to a lot worse living conditions. That having my own bed and a hot shower was like paradise to me in comparison, even if I had to share with two guys.

'What did ya do for money, Trina?'

'Well, I didn't do that.' I knew what he was thinking. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'Sometimes I stole it from stores. Sometimes I earned it.' I pushed down the familiar feeling of shame that came over me. 

'How many times did ya shoplift?' He narrowed his eyes, kept on interrogating me. 

I shrugged my shoulders. 'Loads of times.'

'Ever get caught?'

'Been close a few times.' I admitted and he shot me a sharp look. 'But no, never.' 

'How do ya do it?'

'Worked in a gang ...with my … b...boyfriend.' I stammered on the last word, the grief was still raw. But he didn't notice or he was pretending not to, I didn't know which. Anyway, I didn't want to have to explain. Didn't want to talk about Ryan.  
He raised his eyebrows but didn't pry.  
We planned together about hitting the next store – the smaller ones didn't have cameras. We'd just finalised our plan when I heard the toilet flush and the sound of running water because Daryl always left the tap running while he went. He was shy. Shortly after this, he came out of the bathroom, tousling his hair with a towel but fully dressed otherwise. It was difficult sharing the family sized room because we weren't a family – didn't know each other that well.   
More time had passed than I thought.  
He looked so cute! I tried to surpress my feelings, after all I hadn't lost Ryan more than a few weeks ago.  
'What?' He looked between us questioningly.   
'Just plannin' our next move, bro.' Merle answered him.   
'Now, if ya don't mind, ' He looked at me and I shrugged, 'I think it's my turn to use the bathroom.' He took his clothes with him.  
'What you guys talking about?' Daryl's eyes bored mercilessly into mine as soon as Merle left.  
'How to get more money.'   
Daryl didn't answer me but snorted then bellowed at his brother in the bathroom. The shower hadn't started running yet. 'Ya ain't plannin' on robbin' no one else, are ya Merle?'  
His brother didn't answer.  
'Ya better not be!' He yelled towards the shower, answering his own question. 'How about we all go and find jobs like normal people?'  
Merle's guffaw was muffled by the sound of water starting to run but we still heard it and I sensed Dary was about to unleash his fury on him. He was obviously still upset about this Andrea.  
I tried to distract him. After all, this was like the first time he'd spoken to me properly since we met.  
'So...how come, you and your brother are so close?'   
He turned to glare at me and despite myself, I drew back. Tried to backpaddle.  
'I mean, he obviously loves ya.' I was thinking about how affectionate Merle was with him, not to mention the way he was with him last night when he had a nightmare.  
'Who says we're close?' He clenched his fists and I kicked myself for always saying the wrong thing.   
So I decided to stop digging myself a hole and shut up.  
A few awkward moments passed. I tried to fix things between us.  
'I mean – I didn't get on with my older brother, he was kind of a dick.' I offered in the way of explanation.  
'Oh.' He stared at the floor.   
'But I still miss him.' I added.  
Another few awkward moments passed with neither of us saying anything. Until he smirked at me before he said loudly, 'Well, Merle is kind of a dick too, in case you hadn't noticed.' He grinned at the outraged noises his older brother made from the shower. 'I heard that! Ya better hide now, baby brother 'cos I'm gonna kill ya when I come out!' He yelled.  
Daryl didn't seem to care, chuckled instead. I followed suit and this seemed to relieve some of the tension in the room.   
Merle stormed out after about 10 minutes, fully clothed probably because I was there. Grabbed his younger brother and wrestled him to the bed. Tickled his stomach and ruffled his hair until he begged for mercy. 'Ya better show me some respect, little Darlena!' He teased before he let him go. 

ii.

Mira

We were driving along, checking out the local stores on the high street. We made sure to choose a chain – we didn't want to steal from actual people.   
So we told ourselves, like I'd always told myself, in fact. To justify stealing. But we were running out of cash – only enough for another two nights, not including food, drink and smokes.  
Daryl had his arms crossed, was scowling and slumping low in his seat. 'Merle.' He tried. 'I don't fuckin' wanna do this...'  
'You'd rather go hungry or sleep on the streets, Daryl?'  
'No... but....'  
'Well, shut the fuck up, then.' His brother cut him off.  
'I still don't agree with it...'  
But we'd reached our destination, the store that was a chain but small enough probably not to have a camera. This was the early 1980's after all and not everybody could afford such high technology.  
'Now, Trina, ya know what ya gotta do.' Merle turned to me.  
'Sure. Done it loads of times.' Daryl turned to stare at me in surprise and I felt a little uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Under his judgement.   
'And you too, Daryl.'   
'Yeah!' He snarled grumpily and tuned his face away.  
'Good, then. We all set?'  
'Yes.' We answered at the same time, turning around to look at one another in surprise.  
'Good. 'Cos last thing we want is to get caught by the cops, right?'  
We nodded.

iii.

Daryl

I didn't want to go along with their plan, I mean why couldn't we settle down somewhere and find honest work? I mean I'd left school without graduating but that didn't matter. I could still do work – stuff like barwork or farmwork.   
Why did we have to steal?

Mira

I followed them in, preparing myself for when we got in there. I was right, as I surreptitiously checked the ceiling and walls, place was too small and too poor to afford a video camera. Only two assistants on duty, maybe one manager in the back but probably not.   
I hoped.  
I wandered along the aisles, pretended to be fascinated by the canned vegetables selection. Even picked up one or two cans like I was weighing them in my hands, comparing them. I felt the assistants eyes on me – it was 11pm one a weekday night in a small place and luckily there weren't any other customers.   
At least I didn't look and smell like a homeless bum any more and it looked like I had chosen right and we were in luck.   
Merle trailed behind me while Daryl moved closer to the cash tills. Just like I'd told them to do.   
I picked up some jars of tomato pasta sauce, showed Merle the labels when I suddenly swooned.   
My limbs jerked as I fell to the floor and the whites rolled up in my eyes.  
The older Dixon caught me and lowered me to the floor while the two assistants ran over. They were both men. Good old protective male instinct - worked most times I thought slyly to myself as my body apparently fitted. Merle cradled my head and yelled 'She's diabetic! Get us some help!'  
'I think there's a first aid kit in the staff rest area.' The older man with grey hair and a slim build volunteered.   
'I'll go and call an ambulance.' The younger brown-haired man in his twenties offered.  
I continued to be oblivious to it all as my body jerked. 

Daryl

I made my way casually around to the cash tills when she gave me the signal. Before she started faking a diabetic fit and the cashier who was on duty rushed over to help her. Took a deep breath thinking how much I hated doing this. Good. They were the old-fashioned type – no staff code needed, I thought as I dipped my hands into them. Concentrating on picking the 50 dollar bills, the 20's and 10's, leaving the rest, then making my way as quickly as I could out of the shop. To wait for them in our getaway car parked unconspicuously down an alleyway. Ready to go as soon as they showed up.   
I opened the car and slipped into the front seat. Cradling the bag of cash I'd stolen.  
Feeling like a shit the whole time.

Mira

The younger shop assistant checked me over. 'Wait, I have first aid training – I should check her pulse.'   
Merle played along, nodded but then he didn't know.   
The guy rolled up my long sleeves with theirGothic looking lace frills that covered my wrists, to my elbows before I could stop him and I heard him gasp. All my clothes had long sleeves and covered my legs – even in summer. However, I didn't hear or sense Merle react.   
Then I felt him feel my pulse before I chose this moment to 'recover'. Guessing that Daryl had enough time to grab the money and get out of there. Luckily, still no sign of the manager or the other assistant who'd gone out back to find a first aid kit.   
My eyes fluttered open as I languidly moved my limbs. Tried to weakly get up and lean back on my elbows. Merle waved the other man and helped me to my feet. I found myself leaning on him as I swayed in his arms.   
'Thanks but it's not so bad as we thought.' He explained as he roughly started to drag me out. Just then the older man came out with the first aid kit. They didn't question how I could recover from a diabetic coma – to my understanding, once that happened to you, you could only recover with hospital treatment. Their medical naivete came in handy for our deception.  
'I'll take her now. She needs sugar and we got some in the car...'  
They looked after us bemused as we left the store. No sign of Daryl – I saw Merle checking for him.   
'Good boy.' I heard him mumble under his breath.  
We whooped and punched the air when we reached the car and Daryl waved the full to bursting with money wallet at us from the driver's side. Merle had looked inside, checking his brother was in there, safe and sound. We high-fived each other, all the time expecting to hear cop sirens or the shop workers come running after us, screaming accusations.  
'Get in!' Merle ordered looking around after we'd calmed down from our triumph.  
'Go!' He ordered Daryl to drive.   
Back at the motel, we celebrated but Daryl didn't look happy. He almost killed the mood. Was scowling in fact. 'I don't want to steal no more, Merle. What if we get caught...especially after what we done?' Panic was growing in his voice and Merle shot him a hard glance in reply without answering. Warning him not to reveal some closely-guarded secret.

I pushed my curiousity aside as we drank and smoked, ate chips and fast food until we felt like we were going to burst.  
All in all, we had made over 800 dollars.

Daryl was the first to fall asleep and Merle pinned me down with his eyes across his brother's body while I fidgeted uncomfortably under his penetrating stare.  
'What's ya story, girl? Why ya run away?' He didn't mention the scars he must have seen all over my wrists and forearms but he stared at my sleeves.  
'Sorry, don't want to sound rude but like I told ya before, ain't none of ya business.'  
Merle shrugged instead of getting angry like I expected. As a peculiar feeling of deja vu washed over me. We'd shoplifted together, travelled hundreds of miles across state borders together but still I knew next to nothing about the Dixons and they me. Only that something bad had happened to Daryl and that they were running away from something big and dark.   
'I saw ya arms, girl. Someone do that to ya, honey?' He was caressing me with his syrupy voice but I resisted opening up. Shrugged like I didn't care even though my heart was racing. 'Don't want to talk about it.'  
'Fair enough. But I bet there's loads more marks on the rest of you, huh, sweetie? Is that why ya ran away from home?'  
'Fuck off.' I grew defensive when anyone talked about my scars and because he'd almost hit the bull's eye when it came to the truth. Almost yet far too close. Yes, he was right, my whole body was covered with them.   
He ignored this. 'Let me show ya somethin'. Guess ya heard him last night, huh though I knew ya were pretendin' to be asleep.' I nodded, no point denying it.  
We were whispering but even so, I grew alarmed. What if Daryl woke up and found us   
talking about him? I knew how proud he was and how he guarded his privacy.  
Merle lifted up Daryl's T-shirt gently so as not to wake him up. I needn't have worried, he didn't even stir.  
Now it was my turn to gasp. Hardly a bare inch of Daryl's back wasn't covered by scars – raised pinkish and white damaged skin tissue, thinner marks crossing each other at the top of his back. Other, round marks marred his skin in other places.   
'See? Our fuckin' Daddy did that to him.' Merle whispered as he gently tugged down his brother's T-shirt. Then he soothed back his little brother's hair comfortingly. Daryl did move then – instinctively closer to his brother then but still didn't open his eyes.  
'How?' I whispered.  
'With his fuckin' belt mostly, amongst other things.'   
I shuddered – couldn't help it as I turned away. Didn't want to tell him the truth about my scars all over my body as I secretly fingered the handle of my knife to reassure me.  
He'd be disgusted, I knew.  
'He's sleepin' peacefully now.' Merle sighed and added. Then his voice grew hard suddenly. 'Ya better not hurt him. 'Cos girl or not, I'll kick ya ass.'  
I looked at him in bewilderment, not understanding him.   
'What? I don't know what ya think is goin' on between me and him, he doesn't even like me. 'Sides, I'm sure Daryl can take care of himself.'  
Merle sniggered knowingly and I wanted to wipe that smug look right off his face because he thought he knew everything about me and his brother.  
'I mean – who says I'm gonna keep on hanging around with you guys anyway? Who says I'm not gonna jus' take my share of the cash and ditch you tomorrow?'  
He still smirked in that infuriatingly smug way of his. Like he knew I wouldn't.  
And he was right.

 

iv.

Mira

No matter how much I hated to admit it because I was still with them three days later. We kept moving from place to place, motel to motel, this time getting separate rooms – one for me and one for the brothers. Gradually over time, Daryl started to warm to me and stopped snapping at his brother although I could tell that he hated what we were doing. Kept asking Merle when would we have enough money, where were we going next?

We were going to hit our third store and I took a chance. Merle was driving, staring ahead and I knew that he wasn't paying attention. We were sitting both on opposite sides of the backseat with a space between us when I reached out to touch Daryl's hand. It felt like a bolt of electricity sprung from it as he let me curl my fingers around his.

Daryl

'Ya nothin. Only good for this. All I need ya for is ya sweet, little mouth and ya tight little asshole. Maybe I should cut ya's off – not like ya need it...maybe I will …'  
I tired to shake Dad's voice out of my head and in my confusion, I drew my hand sharply away from hers and she looked a little hurt.  
'Sorry.' I muttered, not daring to look at her. 'Jus' don't like bein' touched much, is all.'  
'That's OK. I only meant it as friends.'

Mira

'Friends?' He looked at me with such shy, sweet hope in his eyes that I forgot my hurt and instead, felt myself falling deeper and deeper for him. 

Did he feel the same way?


	11. Chapter 11

i.

Daryl

Get up son. Today's your birthday!' Dad sang at me and yanked the covers off me to wake me up, as usual. But instead of the morning smack in the face that I expected, already cringing away from him, he smacked a kiss on my cheek instead and ruffled my hair. 'Happy birthday, son. 16's one of the big ones.'

Merle followed him and jumped on my bed, throwing himself on me to grab me in a bear hug.

'I gotta go to work, that poker-faced asshole Tim ain't gonna let me have the day off - he'll dock my pay for a week. But I'll be back later, bro. Give you ya present then, OK?'

'Ya mean ya forgot and ya gonna get me something on the way home?' I growled, only half-joking and pretending to be pissed at him and the lump of Swiss cheese that passed for my big brother's brain lately. But he never forgot to meet his dealer or his hook-ups with girls. It was clear to see what mattered most to him and it wasn't me. I was down the bottom of his list of priorities.

Asshole.

'But I got already ya present, son. But ya can open it later, Daryl – leave something to look forward to, hey boy?' Dad winked at me. 'Ya gonna love it, now ya a big boy now, ya can appreciate it properly.'

I looked a him, feeling a warmth spreading in my chest hope tentatively rising within me because maybe things were going to change. We hadn't got presents for Christmas or our birthdays from him since Mama died because it was like his heart died with her.

The whole day I was wondering what my present was. I looked outside – in the shed but it was locked and he had the key. Did do up the bike for me? All I'd ever wanted was a bike like all the other kids had, he knew that.

I looked around the house but couldn't find anything, no hint or clue.

My father only looked at me and something in his smile and the way he looked at me gave me the chills but I shook it off. After all, he'd taken me down the local diner and bought me a huge burger and fries – that was really splashing out for a Dixon. He didn't eat anything though, just drank his beer he'd bought somewhere else. The waitress – a pretty blonde girl called Kristen who had had a thing with Merle once scowled at him and he smirked back. Deliberately put his dirty workboots up on the opposite chair next to me. But still she didn't say anything because everyone knew that the Dixons weren't to be messed with. Actually, we could get away with quite a lot – at least in our own neighbourhood.

'Like that son?' He asked, sounding like a real father for once.

'Yeah, great, Dad.' I answered sincerely because Pat's burgers were the best in our town. Merle often brought me here when he had the money.

Back home, he carried on drinking and smoking while we sat there watching the football on the old TV – through the static and moving white lines we could just about follow the game. His eyes were flicking from me to the game and back again and I wondered if I was still going to get my present and what it would be. Not wanting to risk making him angry, especially when we'd actually had a nice time to together, I kept silent like I knew he liked. Besides, annoying him was never a good idea anytime, especially when he'd been drinking.

But he broke the silence with a large belch, his words already slightly slurring.

'So, son, got a girl yet?'

I shook my head and looked at the ground. I always got awkward when it came to the opposite sex – didn't know how to act around them. Didn't have that easy charm that my brother had with them and I was jealous at how much he could apparently laugh them into bed.

'Ya 16, Daryl. About time ya did, unless ya a homo fag?'

I got even redder. 'I ain't.' I snarled at him. 'Like girls jus' fine.'

'Good. Ya better 'cos if I ever find ya gettin' up to no good like that with another boy, I'm gonna flail the skin off ya back with my belt.'

I sneered to show him he was wrong and he shrugged his he seemed pleased with my angry reaction, it seemed to reassure him somehow.

'Calm down, Daryl. Only messin' with ya, son. Here, have a beer.' He tossed me one and I caught it without dropping it.

' He smiled at me then and I relaxed as I realised the danger point we'd been at was apparently over.

I was on my third beer when I heard the door slam and Merle burst into the living room two hours after I knew he'd finished his shift. I also knew that it didn't take him that long to get home after work.

I could see that he was already half-high, probably scored on the way home after all it was Friday night and that in Merle's world meant 'party-time'. Drugs, booze and girls. It being my birthday didn't matter – he probably wasn't going to stay.

'Well, don't y'all look cosy.' He drawled, obviously surprised at seeing me sitting with Dad, watching the game and drinking beer together. Was he jealous? I grinned inside at the thought. I could tell that he was already swaying slightly on his feet.

'Merle...' I looked at him pointedly, jerking my head towards our father. Hoping he'd get the message, that I wanted him to stay.

It was my birthday after all.

'Oh...yeah...nearly forgot. Here's ya present, bro,' misunderstanding what I meant. He threw the big, funny-shaped package into my lap before putting his arm around my shoulders to give me a rough hug.

'Gotta go, Daryl. Have a nice time. Don't drink too much beer and be sick all over yaself.' He guffawed at this as if he had just made the world's funniest joke.

Dad looked at him but didn't tell him to stay. Didn't say anything in fact.

'Bye ya'll.' My brother called out as he left. 'Got people to meet, places to go.'

I stared after him long after he left. Suddenly, I wasn't feeling too good and Dad was looking at me in a way I didn't like.

No. I didn't like the way he was looking at me at all.

ii.

Daryl

We stayed that way, watching TV until the game was over. I flinched when Dad pounded the arms of his chair in rage – the Atlanta Braves had lost miserably. I knew this couldn't be good for me. Meanwhile, I had opened Merle's present to reveal a shiny metallic silver and black bow-shaped weapon. 'A crossbow'!' I crowed in excitement silently not to draw Dad's attention to me because Merle had known I always wanted one. Maybe he wasn't so oblivious as I thought he was.

Despite my fears, Dad beamed at me, his anger at our state's baseball team apparently forgotten. 'Better ask him how to use it next time he's home, huh, son?'

I nodded. I wasn't showing it to him but I was very happy with the new weapon and later it would become my trademark. I would always carry a crossbow as long as I lived – especially when the zombie apocalypse happened. I put it aside, promsing myself to try it out tomorrow as soon as it was light or I woke up – whichever happened first.

'Now for ya present.' He stood up. 'Looking forward to it, Daryl? It's upstairs, come with me. I followed him to my bedroom – I hadn't noticed anything new in there. He'd been plying me with whiskey and coke the whole night while he drank it neat. I'd had enough hours ago but whenever I said I didn't want it or didn't empty my glass quick enough, his voice had got that dangerous undertone that told me that I had better obey immediately or suffer the consequences.

'Get in there.' He pushed me into my bedroom. I stumbled, feeling a little dizzy – usually I only drank beer, not the hard stuff. Could drink tons of that.

'Where ...where is it?' I asked, looking around for something wrapped up or a box. Something new that hadn't been there before but I could see nothing. Feeling that something wasn't right but not knowing what it was was the worst feeling.

'Dad...' I looked up at him and he grinned at me, showing me his teeth. I remember thinking how much like a wolf he looked right then.

'It's ya special present. Ya 16, ain't ya, son? Big boy now.'

'Yes... but Dad...' I was starting to panic now. What was he talking about? And where was it?

He strode up to me and I cowered back, my body automatically expecting a beating even though I'd promised myself I wouldn't provoke him by showing fear. Yes – that could be my 'birthday present' that the bastard was going to give me. I wouldn't have been surprised because someone had to pay for the loss of the game and unfortunately, the team weren't here to bear the brunt of Dad's rage. That left only me.

But he didn't hit me. He did much worse by the time he was finished, then he only shoved me onto the bed and this confused me further because I still didn't know what was going on.

'Da...Dad...'

'Stop ya whinin'!' He snapped at me, pinning me to the bed. He took his belt off then while I cowered, getting ready for when it started coming down on me but he used it instead to tie my hands to the bed railings. I struggled until he slapped me into submission -both cheeks. 'What' s wrong with ya, boy?' His voice rising in irritation. 'Don't ya like ya birthday present, sweet sixteen?' He sneered at that and then laughed evilly. I panicked because he'd never tied me up before and this was a new form of punishment that I wasn't familiar with.

I couldn't have imagined what was going to happen.

Needless to say and I won't go into all the twisted details, my 16th birthday was the first day that my father decided that I was 'a big boy' – old enough to take more extreme forms of punishment. To the outside world, I was almost an adult but as a Dixon, I should have grown up long ago.

He tore off my jeans and my underwear and started off by groping me roughly everywhere. Then sucking me off and I hate to admit it that I came. My body moving and responding despite myself. I couldn't stop it even though I pleaded with him to stop. That was my 'birthday present'. Afterwards, he made me do the same to him, coaching me on what to do. All the time he was asking me if I liked it. 'Of course ya do.' He'd answer his question for me because I couldn't breathe let alone speak with his dick rammed down my throat as far as it would go.

He wouldn't even let me spit – put his hands around my throat, choking me until my vision started to go black until I swallowed his disgusting liquid.

Did you think it only happened to girls? Think again. I had the added shame and guilt that I was male and still couldn't stop him doing that stuff to me even if he hadn't tied me up first. I was small and skinny for my age. Besides, everybody understands that a guy can easily overpower a girl and it's not her fault. Especially if it's her father, stepfather, even her brother or classmate etc. But of course I'm not saying that it isn't as bad when it happens to girls – of course it is. In fact, later on, I'd kill anyone I saw doing it to a woman or a kid.

Sick as it is – I had the feeling that if I had been a daughter instead of a son, he wouldn't have been so brutal – would have taken his sweet time to seduce me slowly because my dear old Dad always fancied himself as a gentleman. A real 'ladies' man'. It was a joke really.

The whole time, he would stroke my hair like he used to when I was little and call me his 'Sweet Daryl' or call me 'Good boy' when I pleased him like I was a dog and cuff me when I didn't. Somehow, the praise was worse than what he was actually making me do and forcing on me. Somehow during it all, I managed not to throw up.

Afterwards, I would worry that everything he had done to me had made me homosexual. Would wonder if there was something in Merle always teasing me and calling me 'Little Darlena'. Mocking me because I liked to smell and pick flowers – that was pretty faggy wasn't it? I couldn't understand why my father did it to me when the bastard always said how much he hated those 'whiny pansy homo fags'. Had put a few in hospital in the past just for 'looking at him funny'. Not that I have anything against gays personally - as long as they didn't touch me. But then I couldn't stand people touching me – especially other guys – the worst were other men I didn't know but later with the group that got better.

But at least he didn't fuck me that night – oh no, that came afterwards. He waited about a couple of weeks, bastard must have had to build up his courage to finally go through with it. After that though, he had no inhibitions. Was on me all the time and every time, he would gradually get more sadistic and inventive.

Merle never saw anything or realised what was happening to me. Sure, he noticed that I was more jumpy than before – probably I was acting like I was scared of my own shadow. He even found the bruises and knife cuts on me that would permanently scar a few times and confronted Dad about them -even hit him for me but then he had no idea of the other things the sick bastard was doing. I knew our father enjoyed pulling the wool over his eyes, having the last laugh because he knew I could never tell my big brother about it.

I was too ashamed – he was right about that - too unsure of how Merle would react to the news – would he blame me? He claimed that he hated fags as well – would he think I was one and hate me too? Would he think I led Dad on?

Most likely, my mind whispered, he would turn his back on both of us forever in disgust. I'd be left alone with Dad until either I killed him or he killed me – whatever came first. Or until I got old enough to move out because Dixons don't run away.

But that got me thinking - would he ever let me go anyway when he got so much pleasure out of me? How could he stop me anyway? I was sure he would think of something to stop me leaving him.

I was trapped.

At the time, I couldn't bear the thought of that happening – never seeing my big brother again and being left alone with Dad.

So I kept quiet while all the time praying that somehow he would find out.

So that it would finally end, one way or another.

I had no idea that Merle would kill our father for what he did to me.

But I couldn't blame him. If our positions had been reversed and I had been the older brother, I would have killed the sick fuck too. Probably would have eventually killed the bastard myself, unable to take anymore but my brother beat me to it.

He took that burden from me too and carried it on his shoulders.

For me.

Because he loved me.

iii.

Daryl

All that was past – over, done with and when she curled her fingers around mine and I let her, I felt electricity pass between us and with it, a surge of hope. Maybe I could be normal and like everyone else – find a girl, a job, be happy. However, when I heard his voice in head without warning like he was right there in the car with us, I dropped her hand in panic.

What must she think of me? Did I really say I didn't like being touched? What a pussy She was going to think I was some kind of fucked-up basket-case freakozoid. Why did I let him still get to me even after he was dead?

I shook my head and cursed my awkwardness with girls. Wished I'd listened to Merle when he tried to give me advice.

Feeling brave, I looked up and met her eyes. They were laughing and suddenly I didn't hear his voice anymore. My head was clear as I smiled back at her.

Maybe I had found someone who could make his voice and the fear and panic that always came with it go away from inside my head.

Make him go away for good.

If I let her.

Merle watched this exchange from the corner of his eye in the front car mirror and smiled too.

ii.

Mira

We hit another couple of stores without problems. I changed my repertoire only slightly – the reasons why I fell down in a faint. Daryl did his job by emptying the unlocked, open till each time when the assistant rushed over to help me when I fell down but he looked more unhappy about it more than ever. Wasn't getting used to the thrill of the steal like I expected, confirming what I thought about him before. That his outrage for this Andrea – whoever she was – who they had stolen from – showed that he was a good person who would never be comfortable with stealing, would rather do honest work instead. Unlike his brother who crowed in triumph after each successful hit and lovingly caressed the money like it was a beautiful woman instead of mere bits of printed paper.

I felt like I could drown in his eyes if he ever made eye-contact with me long enough.

We made a few hundred dollars – enough to stay in a more upmarket motel and afford our own rooms. The luxury of slightly better décor and a real, hot shower that was on 24 hours a day.

I'd just had mine and luckily got clean clothes back on when I heard a tentative knock at my door.

I sighed, hoping that it wasn't Merle. I wasn't in the mood to deal with the older, cocky brother.

I drew back in surprise when I saw Daryl hovering outside with a bottle in his hand, holding it forward like an offering, not looking like he was sure what to do.

'Hi.'

'Hi'. He shrugged awkwardly. 'Well, Merle's stoned out of his brains and as high as a kite. Couldn't take his shit no more.' He looked like he was about to turn and go back to his room.

'Come in.' I answered his unspoken question before he decided to bolt instead and waved him inside.

'I got somethin' to share.' He said almost apologetically as he placed the bottle gently down on the table.

'Me too.' I said.

After a few glasses of the Barcardi mixed with coke were rolling about on the bed, laughing our heads off watching some dumb stunt programme on the TV – it all seemed really hilarious.. Especially after I'd rolled us a couple of spliffs from my stash of weed that we shared between us. I got to see another side to him – I mean of course I had seen him horsing around with his brother but most of the times he looked so sad and pissed at the world. I was just glad that I had been able to put a smile on his face.

Feeling tired at last, I lay down on the bed facing each other. We were both fully clothed and giggling.

I liked to see him like this – so relaxed. Like I could get close to him and he'd let me in.

'Seriously, what is it between you and Merle?' I was being eaten up with curiosity -Merle had already filled me in on some of the details but Daryl didn't know that.

His expression turned serious again and I mentally kicked myself for ruining the fun mood.

'What ya mean?' He asked with a hard edge to his voice, warning me to back off.

'Why's he like that with you?' I meant about the way Merle was so protective of him. The hugging and stroking mainly – he touched him a lot but it wasn't like it was in a sleazy, inappropriate way. Just that he showed Daryl a lot of affection. Unusual with adult brothers – well Daryl was 16, nearly an adult but he still looked like a boy – was small and skinny for his age and could easily pass for one or two years younger.

He understood what I meant – he was smart like that. He shrugged and leaned his head on his elbow, to lie opposite me on the bed. I noticed he was mirroring my body language – you had to learn to read other people fast when you were on the streets if you wanted to have a chance of surviving. Learn to read the clues others unconsciously gave you but you had to be careful because some people were trained and could manipulate you by giving you false signals.

For example, making you think they were harmless and no threat then suddenly attacking you. Some creeps on the streets cultivated the art of manipulating body language for this very purpose, I knew.

But I didn't think Daryl was aware of his body language - he was too guileless. Like now – I could read him like an open book. He was ducking his head, clearly debating with himself whether he should open up. This would simply have not happened before – but the booze and the weed had loosened him up.

I decided to go first. I pulled up my sleeves up to my elbows. 'I don't show everybody these.' I told him while his eyes widened in shock when he saw the scars all over my arms. 'Ever wondered why I always wear long clothes even when it's warm outside?

He shook his head, mouth open in shock. Didn't answer.

'There's more.' I said. Pulled up my skirts to my knee while demurely making sure I was covered by tucking the rest of my skirts under me and not flashing him my underwear.

'Who?' He breathed. His eyebrows furrowed with anger on my behalf.

'I did it.' He took a double take at me then. 'What? Ya did it to yaself?' His voice began to rise in almost angry accusation and incredulous disbelief at the same time. I could tell that he thought it was a sign of my weakness.

'Yeah. Tryin' not to do it – I cut when I get stressed or feel threatened. Haven't for like two weeks now.'

'That's sick. Why?' He stared at me.

I took a deep breath. My real father left when I was 5 – I can barely remember him and my stepfather ...wasn't a real nice man...Told my mother but she didn't give a shit. Believed his lies that I led him on. So, I ran away.' I saw a flash of understanding and sympathy cross his face as he nodded.

'What about ya folks?'

He looked down but I didn't miss his shudder. He started to scrunch the bed cover in his fists.

'Merle says …. mustn't tell anyone...could be dangerous...' He mumbled more to himself than to me and didn't meet my eyes.

'It's OK. I understand if ya don't want to tell me. '

He breathed a sigh of relief. But I could tell he wanted to share. 'Da...Dad...wasn't a real nice guy either.'

'Is that why ya killed him?' I tried to keep my voice as level and non-judgemental as I could. Anyway, I really didn't blame him if had killed his Dad after what Merle had told me.

He rounded on me in shock then and I could tell that I'd hit the mark even stumbling around in the dark like I was. I knew why they'd run away when they both looked like they had a home to go back to – somewhere.

'Weren't me...Merle did it.' He growled defensively.

'Why?' He was opening up and I pressed my advantage.

'He was ...h...hurtin' me.' He shuddered again and started to tremble at the memory, his voice hitching on the last part of that sentence. I wanted so badly to reach over and comfort him but I didn't dare.

Now it was my turn to nod. 'Same way my stepdad was hurtin' me?' I pressed softly.

He met my eyes then. 'Yeah. But I didn't scar myself up. Someone must be sick to do that to themself.' Now he was accusing me. I should have known someone as strong and tough as him would think what I'd done to myself was a sign of weakness.

'I jus' had to let the pain out. Don't expect you to understand.' I felt a shutter slam down between us. He was disappointed with me – he clearly thought I was weak.

'No, you're right. I don't fuckin' understand. Wanna see somethin'?' He narrowed his eyes and snarled at me but I wasn't intimidated.

He raised his T-shirt and I gasped when I saw the barely visible thin scars criss-crossing his stomach. Obviously from a knife like mine.

He smirked at my shock before he turned round to show me his back – more scars from a belt buckle presumably, some thinner ones like those on his stomach and small, round ones. I knew what the last ones were – clearly cigarette burns.

'See, I didn't do any of this to myself. He did.' I noticed that he wasn't trembling any more but quiet, trembling rage had crept into his voice reminding me that he was Merle's brother after all.

'I'm sorry.' I said in a small voice while he put his T-shirt back on. I felt like crying but I knew that he would hate that so I forced back the tears.

'It's OK. They weren't the worst.' He brushed off his pain like it didn't matter but nevertheless, I could see it lurking below in the depths of his eyes. No matter how much he tried to hide.

Now I shivered, remembering Barry and his big, hairy body pinning me down on the bed. His disgusting, fat, slimy tongue. But the worst was not what he did to me but my mother refusing to believe me when I could see in her eyes that she knew. She knew! Had known for a long time and still done nothing.

Probably offered me up to him on a plate for all I knew because she didn't want to deal with his demands. I knew that he was a pig in bed.

A living sacrifice.

He sighed then and all the dangerous, rageful energy seemed to drain out of him.

'I'm sorry.' He said. 'Shouldn't judge – not anyone who's been through that shit.'

'Thanks.' He seemed calm now so I decided to take a risk and held out my pinky to him.

He smiled then and took it with his. 'Shook it gently. 'Still friends?' I whispered.

'Friends.' He replied and grinned shyly.

It had become our ritual to reassure each other that everything was OK between us. And it was - we had just trusted each other with our darkest, most painful secrets.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

i.  
Mira

We were about to rob another store after we crossed state lines into Alabama And even I didn't think our luck could hold. They must have passed around descriptions around by now – even though I changed my hair colour by wigs we'd bought – Merle had wolf-whistled when I turned into a blonde bombshell. But I couldn't change my style of dress – I didn't own many clothes and revealing too much skin would guarantee that I would be remembered long after I left the store. Nevertheless, I felt disappointed when Daryl wasn't equally impressed and just scowled. Of course, I knew that not being a born thief or much of a traveller, I could tell he was getting sick of stealing and the moving around. Wanted to settle somewhere, I knew.  
We sat in the back of the car – Merle had hotwired various cars we stole along the way – dumping off the ones we used in our small-time heists in rural areas. Or sometimes he'd get the car spray-painted and swap the number plates at dodgy garages where he seemed to know the people. Daryl had told me that he'd often disappeared for days on end – doing some kind of sinister business, once he'd come back home with his shirt covered in blood and bundles of dough.This made me remember how easily it seemed he'd killed his own father – right after he'd caught him with his brother. Daryl hadn't told me all the details – was reluctant to talk about it but I filled what I could in for myself. It seemed like he'd spread his net out far on these trips – knew a network of these grim, tough men who looked like gangsters – calling them by their names or nicknames. Names like 'Reaper' and 'Sabbath' or simply Joe. Obviously, Merle was calling on past favours and they'd slap each other's backs or high-five eachother. They mostly ignored me and Daryl on the whole which was a relief. At least they didn't look at me like I was a piece of meat or ask Merle how much he wanted for selling me or to lend me out to them.  
We were on our way to another store me and Merle had picked out yesterday – Daryl had refused to get involved. Now he was sitting in the front next to his brother with his arms crossed.  
'I ain't doin' it.' He declared, breaking the tense silence.   
We looked at him.   
'Daryl...' Merle began.  
'Fuck ya, Merle. I said I ain't doin' it. We got enough money now.'  
'Daryl!' His brother hissed, pulling over to a lay-by. 'Jus' one more, promise...then we'll have enough money to set ourselves up...'  
'No!' He stubbornly continued to resist.  
Merle tried something else. 'Come on, baby brother. Ya know I'm right.' He wheedled. Put his arm around him and tried to draw him to him.'We need the money.'  
But Daryl resisted, didn't melt into his brother like he usually did. 'I'm not yours. Get the fuck off me, will ya? Ya think ya can always get around me that way?'  
I couldn't help staring when I heard this as Merle immediately let him go with a sigh. What did Daryl mean by he wasn't Merle's? He was Merle's brother. Did I feel jealous – why would I?   
Merle let him go but didn't give up. 'Jus' one more hit. Promise. Then we'll have enough money.'  
I agreed despite my misgivings. I was sure that we could get away with it one more time.  
We just needed a little more money. 'He's right, Daryl. We still haven't got enough if we want to settle down somewhere. Then we can find jobs.'  
'Ya always say that!' Daryl yelled at his brother after glancing at me briefly. 'Always one more – one of these days we're gonna get caught! Then they'll find out about Dad!'  
Merle glanced at me in concern. 'You told her?' He hissed in disbelief.  
'Don't worry, I'm cool with it. I understand totally.' I tried to calm things down but I could tell he didn't believe me. I decided to try and convince him but then I would have to reveal my own secret.   
Feeling exposed, I told him,'I ran away because of my stepdad. He was the same.'  
Merle glanced at me – with something close to sympathy as he nodded in understanding. Didn't even seem that surprised. At least it wasn't pity and I hated pity. That's why I didn't tell people – they started looking at you funny when they thought you weren't watching, started treating you differently – like you were fragile, made of glass. I didn't think the Dixon brothers would. Anyway, pity was also kind of lookng down on someone too. After all, they understood - Daryl had had experince of that kind of thing and Merle had seen. They didn't like victims and they didn't act like victims either and this strangely, reassured me. Still, he warned me 'If you breathe a word...  
'She ain't gonna tell anybody, Merle. Anyway, Dad must be dissolved in the tank by now. How they gonna find out?'  
Merle smirked and grinned humourlessly. But he still didn't look very convinced. They must be talking about a septic tank – how long did a human being take to dissolve in one of them anyway?I didn't know. How long it took to dissolve people you murdered didn't exactly come up in chemistry lessons in school.   
Not that I was paying attention anyway.  
Despite myself, I shivered at the image of the dead man's skin and flesh and bones dissolving and the cold way they were discussing their dead father. Seemed kind of heartless somehow whatever he'd done to them.   
Merle looked at me with narrowed eyes. Saw the way I was looking at them.  
'Ya judging us, girl? If ya'd seen what I saw the sick fuck was doin' to him... The things he was callin' him...'  
'Merle, don't!' Daryl pleaded, panicking. He didn't want me to know the details. I didn't blame him.  
Merle shut up immediately, realising no doubt that he was revealing too much. Grinned sheepishly instead.  
Daryl compromised.' One more then we go home.'  
His brother was pleased but then quickly turned on him in surprise. 'Ya wanna go back there? What about Mira? We gonna dump her somewhere or she gonna come with us?'  
Yes- I'd told them my real name.   
They were talking about me like I wasn't there in the care with them. Like I was a problem that needed to be 'dumped' – got rid of and I tried not to take offence. So I shrugged to let them know I really didn't care where we ended up. And I really didn't, as long as I could be with Daryl. At least I would have a roof over my head – I wouldn't have to sleep on the streets anymore. I knew they'd expect me to pay my way – I didn't mind. I'd work or do the housework and cooking.  
Most of all – I wouldn't be alone – I'd be part of a group. I hadn't had that sense of security and safety because I knew now that both brothers would protect me if it came to that. That blissful feeling of belonging since …I pushed away the memory of his face, the colour of his eyes and the taste of him before I gave into the grief. I knew that crying now - to show weakness, reveal myself as a potential burden would not be a good idea - especially as Dixons never cry. So Daryl told me but I knew that it wasn't strictly true. I'd heard him sobbing like a child in his sleep but he'd never woken up. Besides, I sensed that, proud as he was, he would be mortified if he knew I had heard him.  
'Why?' Merle still couldn't believe that Daryl wanted to return home. 'After what happened? He's still there, ya know.'  
'Don't give a shit. He's fuckin' dead – ya made sure of that. Didn't ya ever think about how suspicious it looks that we left jus' after he 'disappeared'?  
'Nobody reported him. Ain't even noticed – not even his drinking buddies. Probably think he just went on a bender somewhere.'  
'Ya really believe that? Dixons never have money and we never go nowhere.'  
They were ignoring me, intensely focused on each other, gazing deep into each other's eyes and not for the first time I wondered what Daryl meant by he wasn't Merle's?  
'Anyway, what we gonna tell people?'   
'We'll deal with them when we get there. They might even be on our side – everyone knows how he used to beat the shit out of us.' Merle smirked at Daryl's youthful optimism but didn't say anything.  
'Ya with us?' He asked me.   
'All the way.' At the time, I had no idea how far that would be. 

Maybe if I had known, I might have thought twice.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more background on Trina/Mira. Will Daryl fall for her? Will they go ahead and hit one more store and will they be caught this time?

i.  
Mira

I never thought about how lucky I was – to shoplift for almost two years and never get caught. I'm not saying that there weren't any close calls – of course there were, but I'd always managed to escape somehow. Or fluttered my eye-lashes and talked my way out of trouble.  
Well, it was only occasional when we were really desperate. The rest of the time we begged or sold our crafts – I made sparkly jewelry, for example. Occasionally, we'd pick up odd jobs through Shawn's contacts – delivering dodgy packets amongst others and I would just pretend that I didn't know what was in them.  
Some of my best friends like Sandra and Jessie would sell themselves to strange men. Even some of the boys would when things got desperate. Fortunately, I'd never had to do that – went against my priniciples. I'd rather starve – was used to hunger. After a while, you didn't feel it if you held off. Besides, I was with Ryan not that their boyfriends stopped them. We all knew that being with someone because you liked them was not the same thing as doing business.  
Same as pickpocketing – another popular occupation in our tribe that I didn't indulge in. I may have been a thief but I never stole from people.   
So, I told myself. For years, I'd been a straight A student and hadn't been interested in any of the boys who goofed around me at school who teased me for being a smartass but I didn't care. Knew I was going somewhere and besides, they just seemed too immature and dumb for me. Maybe I'd been arrogant, placed myself on a pedestal above them just because I knew they liked me. It wasn't even like I had to study hard to get the grades  
No, I'd been waiting for someone special. Nothing wrong with being picky.  
But that was before Barry. Before the scars. I knew some guys got off on them but most turned away in disgust because when I had made them I was also making the invisible damage I felt inside me visible on the outside for all to see. I regretting doing it to myself – how was I to know that I would eventually start to feel better? That the tribe would become my new family – I mean we weren't perfect like any family – we'd squabble and bicker and fight but there was a bond between us. Although, some members were closer to each other than others  
We did what we had to survive.Wasn't like any of us had chosen this life – must of us had been forced into it by circumstances. One or two had even left rich homes because they said they couldn't handle the pressure to succeed put on them. Or because their parents were using them as pawns in nasty divorce wars. They thought no one cared about them but at least they had the option to go back. Many of us couldn't – it was actually dangerous for us.  
Most of the ex rich-kids deliberately tried to hide who they'd been, who their families were. I recognised them immediately anyway even though they lied or dropped their classy accents to merge with the rest of us successfully.

Ryan had been one of these and what I liked about him, what made him stand out was that he didn't try to hide who he was.   
Who he had been.  
Or his rich socialite mother up in Boston, descendant of one of the oldest families there and his handsome CEO father. He'd shown me photos of them.Nevertheless, people seemed to accept him as second in command to Shawn when he was only a couple of years older than me. Regarded him as educated, I guess.  
Officially, he'd left because he didn't agree with the values of the rich who usually trampled on the poor and exploit others with less to get where they were. He'd told me that on the surface, his parents did all the right things like spending thousands on charity ball tickets, bidding in fund-raising auctions and doing freebies to benefit those less fortunate them when they could. He told me that his mother didn't work but only raised money in various ways children starving and suffering in developing countries, especially Africa. Yet, he despised their way of life, had rejected his trust fund which was coming to him in a few years when he turned 21. He didn't want to go to Harvard or Princeton or any of the Ivy League colleges that his older brothers had gone to. Nevertheless, it was expected of him whether he wanted to or not.  
Daryl and Merle coudln't have been less like him than if they tried.  
All of this was true but he was also running away from his former army-school Dad. He told me in confidence that he used to occasionally beat the shit out of him but always behind the closed doors of the family library when he didn't get the grades or 'hadn't made it' in some way in his eyes. He'd told me that once during an unusually severe beating, his Dad gave him bruised ribs and black eyes. Just because he'd got 99% instead of 100% on some stupid maths test in school. He'd missed that crucial 1% that meant he was a failure in his father's eyes.  
'Did your Dad always get 100% in everything? Did he ever fail?' I asked, indignant on his behalf.   
Ryan merely shrugged.   
Looking back at it much later on, I would wonder later if he wasn't just using us to pass the time to go slumming with us until he was 21. He always had that security to go back to whereas most of us had nothing to fall back on. He'd always say that he wanted to be with me forever, my scars were beautiful he'd whisper as he ran his lips over them, before they wandered all over my body. He'd declare that I was the only person in the world he really cared about but I wonder if that was really true? He probably meant it at the time he whispered these things in my ear after we'd made love but in the cold, stark light of day, he would probably have forgotten about me after he'd left. When he got his trust fund and his parents started introducing him to beautiful, wealthy Boston debutantes or maybe he would even hook up with some ex-girlfriend from his exclusive prepschool. Some girl anyway who his parents would approve of and consider to be his social equal, not like me.  
When he'd died, I written an anonymous letter to them to let them know what had happened. He still kept his address in his notebook that I found among his possessions. A stupid thing to do, in my opinon – couldn't he just remember it? I didn't know if they believed me, maybe they'd been expecting a ransom note when he first disappeared. Ryan had told me that he'd been kidnapped once when he was very young – by one of his father's lowly disgruntled employees that he'd fired for incompetence without severance pay. The man had demanded one million dollars delivered in a designated place. What had hurt nine year old Ryan the most, he told me later, was that his father had dithered – ignored the note for two days before he decided to respond. Even though his youngest son's life was at stake. After that, he would always be accompanied by bodyguards wherever he went, even going to school everyday which embarassed the hell out of him. He would try to bribe them to leave him one or two blocks away from the school gates but they refused, of course. Under his father's orders, they dared not disobey.  
After we met, he would often tell me that it was such a relief to be amongst people who didn't know him and didn't care who he was or how much money he had or how many properies his parents owned. He said that he wanted to stay on the street with us forever even if life was hard and uncertain.  
When his father refused to even respond to his ransom demand for the first two days of his captivity, as the time approached the deadline, Ryan could see his kidnapper was getting ready to kill him. He could also tell, young as he was that he could expect no mercy judging by the determined looking in the crazy man's eyes. He wanted revenge one way or another but at the last moment, his Dad had agreed. Little did his captor know that he'd got together with a specialist FBI team who were trained for hostage situations, going against his direct instructions.  
Luckily everything had worked out, the experts had found out the location of where he was being held and stormed the place. Anyway, it was only the former employee, his wife and a close friend of his – three people.  
'No harm done', Ryan shrugged carelessly but I saw a glint of old pain beneath in his eyes and I knew that he had never forgiven his father for his waiting. He turned away then, didn't want me to see.  
'Did they hurt you?' I gasped, shocked.  
'Nah. Fed me regularly, let me wash and go to the restroom when I needed to. The boredom got to me though because they kept me tied to a bed in a damp cellar and blindfolded for three days. I told them I was cold and they fetched me more blankets.'  
'That's terrible!'  
'They played music for me and audio story tapes. They were quite kind really.'  
'How can you say that?'  
'Being kidnapped wasn't so bad. They weren't psychos well not until they were getting ready to kill me and they would have done.' He laughed but there was no humour in it, must have sounded hollow even to himself. 'The worst thing was that my own father didn't think me worth a million bucks. Cared more about his fuckin' money than his own son.'  
I could see his anger and hurt rising in him, so I laid a hand on his arm to calm him.  
Who said that the rich people had it easy? They had their own problems just like everybody else. Their fears and the dangers threatening him were just different, that was all.  
I would never know if his love would have held for me. People grew apart sometimes anyway for various different reasons and maybe I was judging him too harshly.  
Maybe I had become cynical.  
I felt my eyes burn whenever I remembered my dead ex-boyfriend and the horrible way he'd died.  
Daryl glanced at me in the back – he always noticed. Was sensitive to those around him.  
'Ya OK?'  
'Fine.' I sniffed and turned away. Didn't want to tell him that I was thinking about my dead ex-boyfriend. That I was missing my family from our tribe.  
But all that was gone now, I'd lost it forever.   
Would never get it back.  
At least this way we were free. Maybe not completely safe either but for most of us, we were safer that we had been. Shawn who was 28 with his girlfriend Stevie took care of us. Made us call him 'Papa' and her 'Mama' just like the other tribes did. In return, we gave them 20% of our takings, however we made them. 

It felt strange at first calling them by these names because they weren't that much older than us.


	14. Chapter 14

The last time  
i.  
Daryl  
We stopped outside the last store, a small one and a chain that I wasn't so familiar with. But then when I looked into the windows at a couple of customers inside, they seemed to be surrounded by a swirl of darkness making them invisible. Before it suddenly lifted.  
What the fuck…? I thought to myself.  
I told myself that it was a mere trick of the eyes. I hadn't been sleeping well lately, was just tired and stressed, that was all. Thought I had dreamt about Dad again recently when the nightmares about him had stopped.   
Still, something about the store didn't feel right, very wrong in fact. Even though it looked no different from all the others we'd robbed.  
'Merle…' I said warningly. 'I don't think we should do this one.'  
He rounded on me then. 'Ya really bought all that sixth sense crap Mama fed us, baby brother? We agreed on jus' one more.'   
'No!' I hissed, refusing to back down. 'I got a really bad feeling about this place...I'm serious this time...Merle...We can still do one more ...let's jus' go somewhere else.' I appealed to Mira, met her eyes but before she could answer he grabbed me roughly like he used to before he knew about Dad and shoved me hard against the wall. I heard her gasp in shock behind me – she'd never seen this bullying side of Merle with me before.  
But then she hadn't known what he was like when I was growing up – sure, he could be thoughtful and generous sometimes – bought me new clothes, took me out for meals when he came back home with the cash. Never telling us where he got it from. He'd protect me from our father when he was there and sober enough but most of the time he was like this – bullying and mocking. 

Dixon tough love to toughen me up.   
Even underneath it all, I still knew he loved me and I knew that I was already tough.  
But he'd changed after he caught Dad with me, like he was trying to make it up to me. Only now he'd gone back to how he used to be.  
I felt myself starting to panic and struggled uselessly while he smirked me and had me pinned against the wall. I could sense Mira's indecisiveness – she wanted to stop it but she didn't know what.She also didn't want to make me look bad. Besides, I could handle my brother and I knew, deep down, that he would never really hurt me.  
I hoped.   
'Merle, get the fuck off me!' I yelled.  
'Or ya jus' lost ya balls, little brother?' He mocked.  
'Fuck you!' I snarled at him, his jibe had stung. 'Get the fuck off me, Merle.' I snarled, trying to push him away with my hands on his chest but he was still a lot bigger and heavier than me and I couldn't make him budge an inch.  
I was reminded yet again of how small and weak I still was and I hated the feeling.  
How could he make me feel that sense of helplessness again – didn't he know that it reminded me of Dad?  
However, I knew it wouldn't be forever, I was finally started to fill out – had grown a lot in the last few months since we'd left home.Wouldn't be weedy for much longer.   
I hoped I would be as broad-shouldered and muscular as Merle and our father was.  
But unfortunately, still not grown enough to be a match for my big brother who was looming over me then, enjoying my useless struggles to escape him.  
Not much different from our father in fact. How much different was my brother from him anyway?  
'Leave him alone!' Mira hissed in his ear and tried to pull him away from me but he easily freed his arm from her. I felt the burning blush of shame spreading over my cheeks because a girl was trying to defend me. Merle laughed and rudely shoved her away. He only pushed her but I knew if it had been a man trying to come between us – the Dixon brothers – he would have laid him out flat on the ground. But I knew he'd never hit a woman – he'd despised our father for beating on our Mama. 'Trina or Mira or whatever ya name is, this here is Dixon family business and ya ain't invited.' He growled back at her without taking his eyes from mine as he pinned me there against the wall with them and she backed off but not without cursing him first.   
'Asshole!' She hissed back. 'Let him go! I care about him too.'  
'Well, ya know what ya can do, don't ya, girl? Don't have to stay with us.' He countered without looking back at her as we were eye-balled each other, caught up in some kind of battle of wills..  
And she never took her eyes off me.  
Then it hit me, he'd be happy to get rid of her. No doubt he just wanted it to be just me and him.  
Merle was jealous that I had someone in my life who I cared about besides him! And the closer me and Mira got, the worse his mood.  
She said nothing to his angry outburst. It was a wise choice with the foul mood he was in. However, he decided to release me then, dropping eye-contact first but not without laughing at me mockingly.  
'Hidin' behind ya little girlfriend's skirts, huh, little brother?' He smirked at me.  
'Ya can be such an asshole sometimes, Merle. What the fuck's wrong with ya?' I tried to calm him down rather than get angry at his insults. I'd been doing this my whole life, mostly to avoid pointless fights when my big brother antagonised people.   
He shrugged and didn't answer. 'We're doin' it, jus' one more, OK, baby brother?' Now his tone had turned wheedling and he ruffled my hair. He looked from me to Mira until we nodded.  
I agreed reluctantly, hoping that after this one, we would either go home or find somewhere to settle for a while and look for work. I promised myself if they wanted to carry on thieving after that, I would go my own way. I was nearly 17 after all. Almost an adult, could find my own work.   
Even if it meant leaving my brother and the only girl I had ever liked.  
I mean really liked.  
ii.  
Daryl  
Merle pushed me aside to get in front of me and raised his gun to train in on the cashier.  
Things had got fucked up and very quickly. Turned out my initial misgivings were right about the place and Mama's 'sixth sense' was right on the ball.  
'Get the fuck out of here!' He yelled at both me and Mira but for the life of me, I couldn't make my legs move. 'What ya waitin' for?' Aware of what could go down, I was transfixed, couldn't abandon my brother to take all the heat. She stayed too. Curling her fingers around mine and for once, I didn't shy away from her touch.  
Merle didn't seem to notice my non-compliance and he turned back because all his attention was taken by the store-worker – the only one left who was conscious and a potential threat. The other two were slumped somewhere in the aisles where me and Merle had pistol –whipped them, coming upon them in surprise in the aisles we had stalked along.  
It had never struck him how strange it was until too late that there were apparently only two 'customers' in the store during the busy lunch hour where many working people all around would usually come in to buy something for their lunch. I had sensed that something was wrong, however but he had refused to listen to me.   
And now we were ass-deep in shit because it had turned out one of the store patrons was an undercover detective and the other was a cop in disguise.  
We'd been set-up and they'd been onto us the moment we stepped into the place.  
They knew we were coming.  
'Don't do it if ya want to live.' He commanded the slim, middle-aged man, waving the weapon pointedly below the counter.  
The man shrugged. His name was Tim apparently – it was written on his name badge. 'Already done it and ain't nothin' ya can do 'bout it.' He smirked, apparently un-intimidated by the weapon or my brother and I wanted to scream at him not to because I knew Merle kill him for it. Especially because of the colour of his skin. He'd already killed one person I knew for sure – our 'beloved' father no less and somehow, maybe more during his mysterious 'work trips' away. Something whispered to me that once you've done it once, it was easier the next time. Don't ask me how I knew this. Worse – the man was black – 'a low-down, dirty nigger' our father would have called him and Merle had inherited his views and I wanted to warn Tim not to be so cocky.  
Not to underestimate my big brother who could turn on the charm and act harmless with women when he was out prowling for a lay but who was a rattlesnake underneath it all.  
I remembered how he punished our father for what he did to me before allowing him the mercy to finally die. It was a mercy in the end because Merle was fully capable of dealing a bad death to anyone who crossed him.  
He hissed and turned around to glance briefly outside when we heard the howl of sirens rapidly approaching. He saw me then. 'What are ya two still doin' here? I thought I told ya to scat! Go!'  
But I didn't move – couldn't abandon my brother to his fate and Merle's attention was soon occupied again by the rebellious cashier who had got half away across to him why we'd been focusing on each other. Almost as silent as a Dixon when he goes a-hunting.  
But unfortunately for him, not quite our equal because Merle whirled around, apparently unsurprised like he'd known the whole time he was being stalked.  
'Get back behind the counter, nigger.' He snarled contemptuously. 'Still ain't decided whether I'm gonna let ya live or not but now that ya pressed that panic button, don't look like I got anythin' to lose, does it?'  
Now the man looked as scared for his life as he should.  
'In fact, as our dear old Dad always said, ''The only good nigger is a dead one.'' Ain't none of them worth a dime 'cept for slavery and workin' the fields, huh, chocolate-face?'  
'Fuck you, ya racist prick.' The man was defiant now, his natural indignation at my brother's racist diatribe taking over his natural self-preservation instincts.  
As the sirens drew nearer, I tore my hand out of Mira's who was watching everything that was going on with detached amusement. She drew back in surprise but I could see that she was stuck in some kind of immobile trance..  
'This ain't a game.' I hissed at her to break her out of it. 'When I make my move, ya gotta go. Meet ya at the place we talked about. Try and sneak out the back if they ain't locked it.' I whispered even though I was sure they would have cut off all our avenues of escape.  
She started to argue but I quickly shut her off with a kiss, surprised at my own boldness.  
She kissed me back briefly on the mouth then and just as I had dreamed, her lips tasted like strawberries.  
Our first kiss.  
But there was no time.  
I knew then that whatever happened to me and Merle, that kiss would sustain me until we could meet again – I dared to hope that we would when we got out of this mess.   
Somehow. Part of me was expecting my big brother to save us again.  
I didn't even have time to check that she really left and Merle didn't notice any of this – he was too focused on keeping the cashier in his sights. The man had already proved himself to be difficult.  
Merle narrowed his eyes at the unfortunate man. 'Time to die but won't ask if ya got any last words. 'Cos nothin' that comes out of a nigger's mouth ain't worth a dime anyway.'  
'Merle! Don't! We said no killin'!'' I cried out behind him but he ignored me.I knew that he was really going to do it, no bluffing now as he raised the gun and aimed it at the shaking, now finally terrified man. Tim started to gabble pleas and promises to Merle to spare his life. That he was sorry for pushing the button.  
But Merle only callously smirked as he cocked the weapon at the his head. 'Shouldn't have fucked with me, bro. Ain't that what ya people call each other?' He mocked, smiling cruelly at the same time so that I saw our father in him and not for the first time either.  
I could see his finger drawing back the trigger and knew that he would never show mercy or miss. A child couldn't miss at this range, let alone a Dixon with hunting in his blood.  
The sirens were outside now and I could hear shouts. Banging on the locked door, I just hoped that they'd left the back open or that she could find the keys – maybe from one of the unconscious men to open it.  
I smiled inside despite the deep shit we were in because I knew Mira – born thief – would escape.  
Somehow.  
I heard the door crash as they smashed the glass but I knew it would be too late.  
Because the defiant black man was dead.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

i.  
Daryl

'Mer...-Johnnie, No!' I yelled again and he had enough time to only make a half-turn, paying attention to me now – something in my voice must have warned him before I was on him. Threw him down to the ground with all my weight. Making him drop the gun in surprise which I kicked as far away I could into the corner. But I was still considerably lighter than him and I had to use all my strength knowing that Merle would soon quickly buck me off him. But at least it would give the unlucky man time to escape which was my aim. Also create a diversion so Mira could slip out. They were good citizens and not afraid of doing their duty.  
'WHAT THE FUCK, BRO!' Merle screamed, forgetting in his rage to conceal our identities.  
'Go! Get out of here!' I screamed at Tim who paled, even under his dark skin as he immediatley ran into the storeroom, maybe the backdoor there was still unlocked. Although if this was a setup, I doubted it. I hoped somehow Mira had got out – maybe it was open or she found the keys somewhere but I couldn't see her.  
Meanwhile, the sirens drew closer and closer. We'd been a little high – she always got the weed but we hadn't shared it with Merle though. I put the drug down to her dreamy, unconcerned attitude. How many times did I question us smoking it before a job? But she said that it was the only way she had the guts to hit the stores. Wasn't she worried that it made her slow? But she'd answered that it had never hurt her before and she'd never got caught.

How complacent she was.

How cocky we all were. I could never have predicted the consequences of our greed and complacency.  
Just before Merle managed to buck me off him as I held on for dear life, all the while screaming his betrayal and fury at me – none of the bystanders had tried to intervene, the police arrived and dragged me off him. Merle, red in the face, snarled 'Ya stupid little shit. Don't ya see what ya done!'  
He was so furious that he too a swing at me but I ducked. Meanwhile the officers cuffed us from behind– a small Latino woman pushed his arm up his back so that she could restrain him. I didn't bother struggling even though being restrained made my breathing coming out hard and jagged. The big Hispanic cop handcuffing me looked at me funny but was soon distracted by my brother when he stuck out his tongue lewdly at the woman who'd cuffed him. I cried out 'Merle, stop! Ya makin' it worse!' Damn him, I thought as the Hispanic officer drew back his hand and slapped my brother hard in the face. 'Enough of that!' He commanded. 'Ain't ya two in enough trouble as it is without adding sexual harassment to the mix? We know about ya shoplifiting other stores – you've just added armed robbery to the list withthis one.'  
Merle smirked like none of it meant anything to him as he threatened me, 'Ya dead when I get my hands on ya, fuckin' little pussy.' I knew he already had previous – had been in juvy several times but now he was too old and I felt afraid for him. But was that where I was heading?   
'I did it for ya. This is all ya fault.' I hissed back, even then I knew not to give away details in front of them while he eyeballed me with such hatred and rage that I'd never seen aimed at me before in my life making me recoil as they hauled us off, separate patrol cars, of course.   
'Looks like a minor. How old are ya, son?' The cop who had slapped my brother asked me with concern as he looked me up and down in the back. 'He ya brother?' He jerked his head in the direction of the other patrol car. 'Where is ya home?' He kept up his barrage of questions.  
Yet I said nothing – it had always been safer that way. Looked out of the window.  
I saw more officers as we left, 2 women and 1 man getting statements from the witnesses. Tim even had the gall to draw his finger across his throat and wave me goodbye mockingly. So I stuck two fingers up at him. I'd saved the dumb bastard's life, didn't he realise? Now it looked like we were going to be locked up but surely my action would count for something but it was my big brother I was worried about.  
I'd saved him from committing murder, didn't he see? When we had no chance of getting away with it – not like with Dad. Not with all the witnesses and the neighbours who wouldn't talk no matter what they heard. After all, on our heists, we didn't hurt anyone.  
I was relieved to see no sign of Mira, though. Hoped against hope that she had got away because I needed her more than ever if it looked like I had lost my brother, they hadn't mentioned her but they must know about her but they didn't seem to.  
At that thought, my heart felt like it was shattering in my chest because blood was blood and he was my only kin left. 

Would he ever forgive me?  
I told myself I didn't care. Wouldn't stand by and watch an innocent man be killed while I stood and did nothing. More importantly – wouldn't let my brother commit murder – again.  
But I'd forgotten what else was at risk now the cops had focused their attention on us.  
I don't know how much later on, I must have dozed off as I sat in the cell with my head bowed on my knees and my arms wrapped around them.  
Fuck him had been my last thought before I'd dozed off.  
'Merle...' I had called knowing that he was in the next cell. But would he answer? Was he still furious with me? Luckily they'd placed us next to eachother – in the tiny jail which showed how small this place actually was. Because weren't they afraid that we would talk – get our stories straight? Maybe not since Merle had refused to speak to me, felt like I had betrayed him.  
Well – we were only being charged with shoplifting and one count of armed robbery I guessed, not murder – not yet.  
What if Tim talked, no doubt he would and Merle would also be charged with attempted homicide? He was never getting out of jail – not with his previous record, not for years to come.  
Of course, we'd been caught together red-handed, couldn't really wriggle out of this one. I put my hand to the bars but he didn't appear. We'd been set up – they'd been onto us the moment we stepped into the place.  
'Merle....fuckin' talk to me....don't ya see? Ya were gonna kill him. Then ya'd be in here for homicide, not just armed robbery f it weren't for me.'  
No answer. I could sense he was listening, see his mouth pouting in a determined straight line, arms crossed over his chest.  
'M...Merle....?'  
'What!' He finally answered irritably from inside the cell. Maybe he had dozed off. 'Ya use me for a diversion so ya little girlfriend could escape, that it?' His voice rose in fury and even though he was safely locked up in the next cell, I cringed back against my wall. 'Ya put a whore over ya own brother, ya own flesh and blood, boy, would ya? Used me as a diversion to save a bitch? Worse – ya save a worthless nigger over ya big brother? Ya know they're all slaves at heart, don't ya? Only good for that. Fuckin' cotton pickin' slaves!Ya better pray they never let me out 'cos when I do, I'm a comin' after ya, ya little bitch.  
Even if he raged at me and cussed me, I was just glad to hear his voice and that he was speaking to me again. Even his harsh words gave me hope. He was sounding more like his old self and OK – he did take a swing at me but I knew he'd never really hurt me. He was just pissed at me and he'd realised in time that I had saved him.  
'She ain't a whore! Or a bitch! And don't ya ever call her that!' I snarled back, his disrepect for Mira making my blood boil. Why did he seem to hate women so much when I thought he had actually liked her?   
'Ain't my girlfriend neither!'  
I heard his snicker at that but the tension between us in the air broke with it.  
Merle...I had to do it. Ya can't jus' go around murderin' people who make ya pissed and ya were gonna fuckin' kill him!'  
He snorted in derision.  
'Don't ya remember what we agreed? No killings. No hurtin' nobody. I probably jus' saved ya from Death Row. Ya should be grateful to me, ya racist piece of shit!'   
He sighed and I knew that his anger had passed. He could never stay mad at his baby brother for long. He must have realised that what I did was for the best.  
'Things...got out of hand there...we'd have never got out anyway.' He finally admitted, all the rage fading from him. 'I jus' lost it, I guess when that buck-toothed, uppity nigger tried to creep up on me.'  
'Like they did with him, ya mean?'  
' Shut up! That was different and I told ya not to talk about him!' He scolded, deliberately not answering. 'Anyfuckin' asshole could be listenin'.' He said more quietly this time as he explained.

His angry words washed over me and I breathed a huge sigh of relief because it looked like he had forgiven me.  
'Merle...' I repeated, hating the anxious whine creeping into my voice. Like I was expecting him to get us out of trouble. Out of here.  
To save me again.   
But this time I knew he couldn't.  
'Stop being a little pussy, little Darlena.Ya did the right thing, maybe they'll even go easy on ya, baby brother. Say it was all my idea and they'll put ya in juvie for a few months at most. Ya don't have a record. Ya'll be OK..' He answered with very unMerle-like calmness to shut me up and I marvelled at the sharp turnaround from moments before as I sighed in defeat. This way, I knew things must be really bad and that we weren't going to be able to talk our way out of this.  
I got angry then. It was all his fault we were in this mess but at least Mira had got away. Would she still be waiting for me when – if- I - we got out?   
'I told ya I didn't want to do it! That we should stop!'  
'Ya want to make it worse for us? Better shut up now – they probably got bugs down here.'  
'Fuck you, ya dumb, racist shit!' I yelled. Sounding really furious this time. He was kicking the bars and I knew that if he was in my cell with me, he would probably slap my face or shake me. But I was so angry at him and the shit he'd got us into just because he was greedy that I wanted to slap – no, punch his greedy, dumb redneck head in!  
'What's going on down there! Quiet or I'll put one of you in solitary!'  
It was the warden – he'd been OK to me at least but then I was still a minor. They'd taken mugshots of us and taken our fingerprints. It wasn't a weekend night and this was a small town – well not even a town, more like a village. I couldn't remember its name on the Alabama side of the Alabama/ Georgia border. I'd never been so far before – not even out of state and I strangely felt homesick for our house despite what had happened there. That explained why the rest of the cells – six in all were empty and I thought he was just bluffing about solitary - probably didn't even exist.  
Probably capturing us was the most exciting crime that had happened here for years. We'd be all over the local news.   
Their accents were slightly different. I could hear it.  
I curled up and fell asleep after our argument. Merle did too, I think.  
Woke up groggily in the early morning as usual when the sun was shining into the barred window and I couldn't help wandering what it would be like to go hunting in the woods today.  
Just pipe-dreams. We weren't ever going to get out of here anytime soon.  
'Daryl – ya awake?' Merle whispered loudly (how is that possible?) yesterday's rage and arguments already forgotten. That was my big brother – his anger at me flashed bright but died out quickly, dumb hothead that he was. He must have realised that what I did had been for the best.  
Except when it came to coming upon Dad with me that last time though. Then his rage had been icy-controlled and controlled and he could hold a grudge like a bear with a sore foot. I shivered when I remembered the red stain spreading on the white towel between our father's legs and him screaming in agony. That memory soon woke me up in a hurry.  
'Merle.'  
'Listen – tell them I forced ya. It was all my idea.'  
'What?' I hissed. 'No!' Suddenly, I was wide awake. Jumped up and went immediately to the front of the cell to see his face because couldn't believe what I was hearing.  
'Tell them I made ya- I made ya run away with me from home.'  
'No!' I gasped.   
'Look- they're gonna check us out. They'll see your back. When they see that...'   
'N...no. What about yours? He did that shit to ya, too.' I couldn't stand the thought of people seeing my back. Them knowing about the whippings with the belt, among other things.  
'Don't matter 'bout me.They gonna know anyway, Daryl. They'll probably do other tests when they see your scars – ya a minor, ya should be in school. We ran away.'  
'What...what tests?' I didn't know what he was talking about. 'I won't let them!' I almost yelled anyway in defiance next as I felt myself start to panic. My worst nightmare was being stripped and exposed, their hands all over me – prodding, touching. I shivered at the thought.  
Like his - my mind whispered. My breathing got ragged all of a sudden. My chest felt tight – knew I was hyperventilating, that feeling that I was close to dying whenever I thought about our father.  
I leaned my forehead against the cell's cool bars.  
'Sh...Sh...Calm down. Ya want to bring them down here?' I heard him clash against his bars and rattle them violently. He was trying to stretch his arms out to reach me but h e was simply too far away.  
'What do ya mean?' I tried to keep my voice level and took deep breaths to control my breathing.  
'They'll find out about Dad. The other things he did.'  
I shuddered and prayed that the bastard's bones had dissolved in the septic tank by now.   
'Fuck him. Fucker's dead.' I laughed heartlessly with more mirth than I felt to hide the fact that I had started to tremble and my eyes started to burn when he mentioned Dad and the sick things he did to me. Not wanting my big brother to see me weaken, I slumped back onto my bunkbed. Out of his range of sight.  
'Shut the fuck up about that, Darlena.' He hissed warningly. He called me that usually when he was annoyed with me.  
'Anyway, how they gonna know? It was fuckin' ages ago.' I snarled. Didn't tell him that I'd stopped bleeding but even now – occasionally, there would still be a spot or two in my underwear. Had he really done some damage to me inside.Then I'd feel that sense of helpless shame again.   
'Ya think ya only got scars on ya back, boy? Ya bleed after every time with him?' Merle answered with a sliver of sympathy in his voice. Yet he snarled the last word with deep, unextinguished, hatred and rage. I was just glad that his rage was no longer for what I'd done and I gasped in surprise that he knew about the blood afterwards.  
'M...Merle...' I protested, my voice beginning to turn quivery.   
'I saw what he was doin' to ya and the way he was doin' it. Practically rippin' ya apart, the sick fuck. Tell me, did he even use lube on ya?'  
I winced at his bluntness and tried to ride the rollercoaster of emotions and memories his graphic language invoked in me. Shame and self-disgust mainly, mixed together with the familiar old terror and pain. Because my big brother had seen me and Dad together – him and me –both naked. Seen what he was doing to me. The shame and humiliation. What he said got me thinking about the thin scars on my stomach when he cut me once – they were practically invisible anyway. But that got me thinking about the worst time with the knife when he'd made me bleed for fuckin' weeks after.   
Despite myself, remembering the times with Dad and how I'd lost Mira, I started to cry, stuffing the corner of the shirt into my mouth to muffle my sobs. Hating myself for being so weak, I put my arms around my knees on the cell bench and buried my head in my lap but I wished it was my big brother's arms around me instead. Because now I needed and wanted to feel him holding me more than anything – even more than getting out of this shithole. But at the same time, the last thing I wanted was for him to hear me breaking down like a little bitch pussy.   
Dixons don't cry. Then I heard his hateful voice in my head: Ya want more, ya little bitch? Keep cryin' and I'll go even deeper. Would ya like that, ya little tease? or Moan like ya mean it, boy otherwise I'll get rough with ya and ya won't like that, I promise ya.' Then I remembered him sliding the knife slowly into me. Before he replaced it with his prick, of course. Of course my brother was right, I must be scarred inside after everything he did. Why didn't I realise?  
'Don't cry, little brother.' Merle crooned to me softly and I could still hear him uselessly struggling with the bars, rattling them desperately trying to get to me. 'Jus' tell them it was me who did it and that I forced ya. That I dragged ya with me and forced ya to do it all – all the thievin'. Ya scared of me.'   
'I ain't!' I snarled back but my pathetic sniffles betrayed me. He wasn't fooled – he never was and I could still hear him fighting the bars, I could feel his need to touch me.  
To hold me.   
Ever since that day he'd come back unexpectedly from work because he'd been fired, and seen me and Dad together, he'd been like this.   
Started to treat me different.  
He'd never really hurt me before just the odd shake or slap occasionally but it was like he was being extra especially careful with me from then on. Like I was fragile, made of glass instead of Dixon steel. 

iii.

Daryl

The first time was on the morning after – so to speak, after he'd tortured and killed Dad for what he saw him doing to me. Afterwards, when I'd seen Dad's body and what Merle had done to him, he'd held me and rocked me there on the floor.   
How did he know that I had just a nightmare about Dad? I was crying and shaking when I woke up and it wasn't even a dream about what Dad did. Instead he'd come back as a shambling corpse, his skin already dissolving off his flesh, blood dripping from the spreading red stain between his legs on the white pristine towel wrapped his torso. He'd limped d towards me, one leg bloody and bent as I cowered against the wall. 'Ya killed me, ya ungrateful little shits. Ya own father! How could ya?' He panted before he lost his voice and only growls emerged from his throat. But even so, I could tell that he was trying to say more – his eyes were horribly full of human intelligence but no sounds would come out from his mouth. He fell on me then and Instead, his jaws started snapping, I could see the teeth through one cheek where the skin was flapping off and he managed to grab my ankle even though I kicked at him in the head. So hard, that one eye came out of its socket and was dangling by a tendon down his cheek. I gagged.  
All the time I was screaming for my big brother but he simply wasn't there. My father was just about to sink his teeth into my calf when I woke up with Merle's name on my lips and suddenly he was tthere.  
Right in front of me with a look of concern on his face. 

'Ya called me, baby brother? Ya OK?' He asked me as he sat down on the bed next to me. I shook my head at the first question. 'Yeah, fine.' While I tried to slow down my breathing and heartbeat at the same time. It was just a stupid bad dream after all.   
He reached for me then while I whimpered, still lost in the feelings of the nightmare and not wanting to be touched. Dad's words were echoing in my head then, that Merle would think I led him on, that I'd wanted it. That he'd hate me. As well as that look in his eye when he'd stood over me, - me with the belt wrapped around my neck like a dog-collar. When he caught Dad doing what he'd been doing to me for months. But then he'd only reached down to gently undo it.  
All his rage and disgust had been for Dad. He'd made that very clear when he'd stabbed our father's body part which he'd used to hurt me so very badly.  
I thought he would be disgusted with me just like Dad always threatened me that he would be if I ever told.  
'It's OK,' He crooned, stroking my back but I recoiled.  
Despite his obvious hatred and rage against our father because of what he'd seen him doing to me, I felt suddenly afraid of him. Hatred and rage that wasn't even extinguished after he killed him, I knew because Merle could hold onto a grudge like no-one else can. However, the crazy thought flittered across my mind that maybe Merle would also want to try 'my sweet little ass' too – maybe seeing Dad do it had put ideas into his head. I knew how curious he was – heard him boast that he would try anything at least once, especially when it came to sex. Even if he was always saying how much he hated gays, like Dad.  
Even so – just like with Dad – I wasn't out of bounds.  
Besides, he'd never been very touchy-feely before – that wasn't the Dixon way. Usually the only touching I got in that house was the kind that hurt.  
When I whimpered and drew back from him, couldn't help myself and I felt guilty at the look of hurt that I glimpsed flashing across his face. Before he rapidly hid it, of course. But his annoyance was clear on it as he pulled back his hand from me with a hiss of frustration.  
'Fuck! Ya scared of me, ya little pussy? Ya think I'm gonna hurt ya like he did?Ya think I'm some kind of sick pervert?' His voice was rising in disbelief and hurt.  
Shit, I thought. Now I've made him angry – maybe he is going to hurt me just like Dad or at least beat the living crap out of me. Because I let Dad do that to me, I was a whore just like he said. I was dirty – no, filthy inside and everybody, including my own brother, could see I'd been marked. Got my father's marks all over me.   
'No...I ain't scared of ya, Merle.' I raised my head to glare into his eyes to prove it. 'Cos ya jus' my fuckin' dumb asshole big brother.' I sneered at him.  
He laughed like he was pleased at that and reached over then and brushed the long strands of my neglected hair off my face. I found myself leaning towards him even though I didn't want to and he smirked.  
'N...no. Don't touch me...' I tried to draw back again and when he didn't stop, I felt the panic building within me.  
'Sh...sh...It's OK.' He edged even closer to me to brush back my hair like Dad did sometimes, usually right before he forced me and I trembled because of that gleam I'd seen in Merle's eye the day before. That look I couldn't identify at the time. I also couldn't stop the pathetic whimpers coming out from my mouth despite him hushing me and all the time I was thinking: If Merle's gonna take over where Dad left off, why did he kill him?  
If he did it to me too, I thought to myself, I'll fuckin' kill him myself. I growled deep in my throat at that thought then making Merle stop what he was doing and draw back in surprise.   
'Ain't such a pussy after all, huh, baby Darlena?' A teasing smile was playing around his lips.   
'Fuck you.' I snarled.  
'Come here, boy.' He coaxed as he patted the space next to him on the bed.  
I shook my head. 'What the fuck ya want, Merle? Jus' leave me alone, will ya? So I had a crappy dream about Dad. Big deal. ' I rolled over and turned my back to him. My dismissal clear. I just wanted to be left alone, savour the unfamiliar feeling of freedom and safety now Dad was gone.  
I should have known Merle wouldn't leave me alone.

'Come here.' He repeated again, just as patiently as before behind me but this time his tone was softer. Tender even. ' Ya scared of ole Merle? Merle ain't gonna hurt ya. I ain't no filthy fag. It's OK.' He grabbed me then, a little roughly.  
I whimpered when he pinned me down to the bed even though I was struggling and panicking. 

Didn't he know what it felt like to me? Holding me down even though I was gasping 'No' and pleading with him, 'Don't, please don't, Merle' frantically, over and over, scrabbling at his hands, desperate for him to let me go while he tried to soothe me. With no success. But it was like he didn't hear me because he didn't release me. I was absolutely terrified, could barely get my breath because I was still not sure what his intentions were despite his words. Couldn't believe that I was having these sick fears about my own big brother because maybe was he more like Dad than I realised? Probably what he'd done to me had made me more jittery than usual.  
But he was my big brother, for fuck's sake. He wasn't going to hurt me. He'd killed Dad for doing just that. So, I told myself but nevertheless, the fear and panic choked me.  
'Sh...sh...It's OK. Don't ya know that not all touchin' is hurtin', baby brother?' Nevertheless, I shuddered. 'Let ya big brother show ya.' He crooned as he dragged my head into his lap while my heart began to jack-knife because I didn't know what he was going to do to me. Without realising it, my hands clenched the fabric of his jeans in my fists and I tensed, digging my nails into his thighs, preparing for a fight.  
He didn't even seem to notice and I wondered if he was high again. I couldn't smell alcohol on his breath.  
'No! Get the fuck off me, Merle!' Even though I told myself that it wasn't like the things Dad did – there was no sex in it – was there? Or was he going to make me take him in my mouth like he'd done? Yet it was still forcing and how could he make me when he knew what our father did to me?  
'Leave me the fuck alone!' I yelled but he didn't answer, only continued to hush me.  
What? What was he going to do? I thought desperately as I prepared myself for the inevitable touching and gropings getting rougher and greedier and less hesitant.If he started that shit, I promised myself, I'd fight him like a alley-cat.I'd scratch and bite if I had to. Make it as difficult for him as I could and if it didn't make him give up, I'd fucking kill him afterwards. These thoughts made me feel better, the plan gave me some sense of control that I'd never felt with Dad.  
I steeled myself for when he pulled my pants down, undid his – he'd probably use lube first and stretch me with his fingers before he finally got on top of me. Wouldn't he? But where was it? But the hand that wasn't holding me down never left my hair as he began to gently stroke it and I felt myself go limp and all the tension drain out of my body. I felt ashamed that I had had these sick thoughts about my own brother who had only ever done his best to protect me – when he was there and sober, of course. I was comparing him to that dead sick fuck. Moreover, I had to agree with him as my body slowed its trembling and my breathing stopped hitching and slowed down too. I stopped instinctively struggling as the fear drained slowly from me and a warm feeling of being cherished and of safety washed over me instead. He looked down at me and grinned.  
I'd practically never experienced this before – there was only an echo of a memory of Mama when I was very small and she used to hold me on her lap and do the same.  
'Feelin' better?' He smirked at the power he had over me while relaxing his steely grip when he realised that I wouldn't try to run away. Quite the opposite in fact, as I basked in the warm feelings he gave me that drove all thoughts and memories of Dad away. He put one arm round me then instead while his hand continued to brush through my hair. Fingertips grazing my scalp now.  
I looked up at him and nodded as I sighed deeply and the last dregs of tension left me. Laid my head back down gently where it was and felt him smile even though I couldn't see his face.  
'Why ya doin' this now? I didn't know ya were a fag.' I joked and he swatted me for this. 'Didn't never do this before.' I looked up at him questioningly,with eyes that I knew were all big and round in innocence, despite everything. After all, it's one of the things that had turned Dad on about me, so he told me again and again. But Merle stroked my cheek with his finger and kissed me chastely on the forehead and I didn't even flinch! Felt my mouth form a smile instead.  
'Because I didn't know ya needed it.' He murmured, not stopping what he was doing either.   
'Fuck, I love ya so much, baby brother.' He sighed. 'More than I ever loved a bitch or ever will. More than I ever did him and ya know I'd fuckin' kill for ya.'  
I knew that and he already had.  
His eyes slid away from me as if this outburst embarrassed him. Because Dixons never say the 'L' word.   
'M...Merle.' I stammered, looking up at him, forcing his gaze back on me. Poured all my heart into my eyes to meet his. So that he knew.  
He held my gaze for a moment before he nodded. 'Hush. Let me make ya feel all better, baby brother.' 

When I raised my head – maybe I'd dozed off, it was already 2 in the afternoon   
when I looked at the clock on my bedside dresser.

He never spoke much but when he did, he'd try get the whole, filthy truth out of me. How did he know that there was more? Why did he want to know? 'What else did he do,baby brother?' And I was thinking why was he asking me this when he had seen? Come on, ya can tell ya big brother.' He'd coax me at the same his hand was moving gently over my hair but I'd tremble when he asked me about the things Dad did. But I would shake my head instead of answering and bury my burning face in his chest or his lap in shame as he pulled me tighter to him or rocked me. Because I was never going to tell him about the knife inside me. Or the bastard making me pretend I liked it and wanted it and what a a grand Oscar-winning performance I'd put on. 'Don't worry, it don't make ya a fag.' He'd reassure me or he'd tell me again and again as if he thought I didn't believe him, 'It ain't ya fault, sweet boy. Dad was jus' a sick fuck, is all.' He'd croon all this to me, punctuating each word with a caress. 'He's the one who was nothin', not you, baby brother.' He'd hold me and stroke my hair or back for hours sometimes while whispering stuff like that in my ear. Otherwise, he never spoke, mostly he did these things in silence because I knew he was struggling to put his feelings into words. Dixons don't share. But it did seem that in his eyes, getting viciously fucked by your own father was the one exception to the rule that Dixons don't cry.  
Apparently still so fragile even after all that and the time that had passed. Most unDixon-like because I should have got over it by now like a true Dixon, after all the bastard was dead. I didn't have to be afraid any more.   
Then why was I crying when I remembered Dad and what he did to me?  
What a pussy.  
'I ain't fuckin' cryin'!' I snarled back but then I sniffled. 'No! I ain't sayin' ya did it to me! Ya'll go to jail, be labelled a pervert!'   
I forced my body to obey me, got it back under control.  
It did.


	16. Chapter 16

Being dumb enough to get caught because I'd created a diversion to save a girl. I knew what Merle would think about that – he said girls were only good for one thing. But I'd never felt this way before about a girl before because she held my hand, my skin felt like it was burning.  
I missed her and the way she made me feel. He couldn't understand – I knew he had never felt anything for his hook-ups. Part of me felt sad, wished he had experienced just once what me and Mira had. Even though we'd only gone as far as kissing.  
'Listen.' I could hear the hiss of growing frustration in his voice. 'I need ya to do this otherwise they'll put two and two together and know what we did.'  
'So?' I was smart enough to not say how he killed our father and then we disposed of his body.   
The evil bastard's bones were already dissolved in the septic tank, weren't they?  
'We stick to what happened.' Only I could hear the catch in his voice, telling me we stick to our agreed story.  
He meant our story, we'd already gone over it together again and again. Dad had just disappeared one day, we didn't know where he went but we guessed he'd gone on another bender for days like he'd done before. But at the same time Merle had lost his job and we couldn't pay the bills with Dad gone. So he'd taken me out of school and we'd gone on a road trip for him to look for work. There was some truth mixed in with the lies. But then he'd forced me to shoplift and because I was scared of him and dependent on him (Apparently, I didn't have much mind of my own) I did what he told me to.

'OK.I'll...' But I stopped because the warden came with his assistant interrupting me.  
'Come on, son.' He unlocked the door. 'Come with us.'  
I backed against the wall in confusion. 'Why...?'  
'Come here, sonny, no need to be scared. Jus' going to see the nurse.'  
'I ain't scared!' I yelled angrily but my back was still literally against the wall.When they reached for me, I panicked. 'Fuck off! Don't touch me!'  
They stared at me in shock.   
'Ya ain't helping yaself any, son.' The warden said. 'Come on, ain't no-one gonna hurt ya.'  
'Daryl, it's OK. Go with them. Remember what I said.' Merle interrupted when I was preparing myself to go with them biting and screaming because I wasn't going to let them do their stupid tests. Literally but my brother's words put me at ease. Why the hell was he telling me to go with them?  
'We don't want any trouble. Just goin' to get you checked you out but if you fight us...'  
My shoulders slumped and I looked down at the floor with all the fight leaving me.  
The assistant left the threat incomplete and the warden looked at him sharply. He was a thin man in his fifties? I guessed with a tight, pinched mouth. I didn't trust him – looked like somebody who hurt just for fun. I remembered that's what Dad used to do – it was very effective because you were always wondering what he was threatening you with. You always tried to imagine the worst except in my case, reality was always much worse than I could ever imagine.  
I reluctantly came up to the bars. They handcuffed me and led me to the infirmary. 

The prison nurse was a young woman, slim with gorgeous long, blonde hair but this made me feel more uncomfortable, They walked out then and left me with her after taking the cuffs off me.  
She smiled at me and ordered me to strip to my underwear. But instead of her voice I heard his: Get your clothes off son, I wanna see ya. What? Ya ain't shy are ya?  
I did as I was told and heard her gasp when she saw my back.  
'Who did this to you?' She didn't beat around the bush.  
'No-one.' I looked down at the floor in shame. 'Fell down the stairs.' The oldest excuse in the world. Such a cliché.   
She knew I was mocking her as she looked at me sharply. Wasn't so soft as she seemed after all.  
'You don't get scars like those from falling down the stairs. Who ya protectin', sweetheart?'  
'I told ya, no-one.'  
She stopped pushing me but left the room without a word. Came back with the doctor.  
His eyes widened when he saw my back and he shook his head in belief when he saw the faint knife scars criss-crossing my stomach.   
'Maybe it's better man to man.' He whispered to the nurse but I heard it. 'He might open up to me. Do you mind leaving us, Muriel?' It annoyed me that they were talking about me like I wasn't there. Like I was a stray, bedraggled cat or dog that they had rescued from the streets.  
She smiled at me encouragingly. 'Don't worry. Ya'll be fine.' She winked before she left out of the door.  
I looked warily at the doctor – he was middle-aged with greying hair and a slight paunch but he didn't look unkind. Nevertheless, I was feeling exposed standing there in my underwear.  
He noticed and motioned to my clothes. 'Ya can get dressed now.'  
'Wanna talk about it, son? Looks like someone gave ya a real bad whipping on ya back. Put out their cigarettes on ya too?'  
I shook my head. I felt exhausted, all I wanted was to go back and lie down on my narrow bed in my cell. I wished they would just leave me alone with their nosy questions – I was never going to talk about Dad and what he did to me so why didn't they just give up?  
This was my worst nightmare and I felt like I could kill Merle. The authorities finding out about Dad and what he did to me. What if they started poking around in our village and discovered what we'd done?  
'That's OK. You don't have to.' He said when I remained silent.  
I looked at him in surprise because he was giving me a choice. Wasn't trying to force me to tell.  
'Must be difficult to speak about it, ain't it, sonny?' He said kindly with understanding.  
I knew it was a trap, he was trying to lull me in letting something slip so I said nothing.   
Like Dad used to – make you let down your guard before an attack.  
'The marks on your stomach – they look painful. Knife was it?' He kept his voice deliberately calm and level.  
Still I said nothing and looked elsewhere but felt myself begin to tremble. He noticed.  
Damn!   
'Did someone cut your stomach with a knife?' He asked in sympathy. 'That's torture. Was it a punishment?'  
I shook my head. 'Don't know what ya talkin' about. Ain't no-one cut me.' I lied.  
'I know ya lying. Protectin' someone, son?'  
I sank down on the chair, my legs were feeling wobbly. I wasn't about to let him lull me with his calm, matter-of-fact tone.  
'Don't want to talk about it.' I said sullenly. 'Just let me go back to my cell, will ya?'  
He ignored what I said. 'So, there is somethin' to talk about, is there?'  
'I said I ain't talkin'.' I snapped.  
'Was it ya brother or ...someone else? Maybe...more than one person?'  
Despite myself, I grew outraged when he accused Merle. 'No, it weren't my brother!' I nearly screamed, remembering how he'd comforted me afterwards and stopped the trembling, time and time again. They didn't know about that. I covered my mouth with my hand then, realising that I'd stupidly gone against his instructions. But I couldn't say that he'd been the one who hurt me, I couldn't!  
'I'll let ya go to bed. Ya must be tired but I promise you, we're going to get to the bottom of this. We'll find out who's been hurting you.'  
I shrugged my shoulders while he called back the warden and his assistant and they took me back to my cell.  
'I need to do a more thorough examination of this boy tomorrow – he's a minor.' The doctor told them like I wasn't there.  
They looked at me with some expression in their eyes that I couldn't recognise and I shivered because I had an idea of what this 'thorough examination' would involve. I wasn't an idiot.  
That night I slept deeply even though I was worried about what was going to happen. Plus, the fact that my secret was out. Merle had already been snoring away in his cell – I could hear him when I got back. Damn him! I thought. Dreaming away like he ain't got a care in the world. Like he's not up for shoplifting and armed robbery. Would have been homocide too if I hadn't stopped him.

ii.  
Daryl

The next day was even worse. Just as Merle predicted, after they saw my back, the doctor wanted to do a special examination – to check if I'd been abused in any other way than just physically. I mean why did they care? We were charged with shoplifting and Merle with one count of armed robbery. Of course, they tried to get us to give up Mira but we both pretended that we'd only just met and we didn't know her name. Other store workers where we'd been had given them a description of her but they couldn't prove anything because none of the places we targeted had security cameras. That's why we had deliberately chosen them.  
I dreaded the time when they looked up our home address back in Georgia and found out that our father had disappeared about the same time we left in a hurry.  
That they would connect the missing dots and find our father's bones but surely they must be dissolved in the septic tank by now?

The doctor had told me to strip but I started to struggle in panic when he wanted me to remove my underwear. He snapped on plastic gloves and got a torch I knew what was coming.  
I couldn't help it – I forgot Merle's advice to stay calm and they pinned me down but they couldn't keep me down. In the end, they injected me with something and I'd woken up groggy from the drug.  
I felt a little sore back there but it wasn't like after the times with Dad and when I went to the toilet to check my underwear, there was no blood.  
This was my worst nightmare - even worse than me and Merle being charged with shoplifting.  
We were waiting for our trial in a couple of weeks – wasn't like we could afford the bail. But at least we were together -sort of- and could speak to eachother. Merle seemed to think that I would just get a few months of community service at best, a few months in juvie at worst. After all, I was a minor and it being my first offence. He urged me to tell them that he forced me into the shoplifting, practically kidnapped me even.  
We were visited every day by our court-appointed defence lawyer – Merle sneered and called him a 'dial-an -attorney'. He was a joke really, he greased back the few strands on his balding head with pomade and his cheap suits. We could tell that he didn't really give a shit.  
Apparently my scars could feature in my defence if only I said that Merle had made them on me and had forced me into thievery. But still I refused to speak with the social worker there because of my age. 

The next visitor I had was the prison psychiatrist. A middle-aged man with steely-grey hair. He tried to make me speak about my past like the others but I kept my mouth shut. Worse- he reminded me of Dad and when he loomed over me, I couldn't help flinching back and he backed off. I was worried he was going to touch me but he didn't. He didn't seem surprised either, just wrote notes down in his green notebook.  
'Ya scared of grown men, Daryl?'  
I did speak then. He'd just pushed my buttons by accusing me of fear because no Dixon would ever admit to being afraid. 'No, I ain't!' I lunged aggressively at him but stopped before I got to him as if to prove my point.  
He didn't flinch or seem surprised.   
'Ya sure? That a man didn't hurt you? Hurt you very badly, hmm? Maybe your brother? Maybe your father? Maybe both? Or someone else?'   
I started to shake and my face burned with shame as I looked at the floor. The asshole had got me.  
'Fuck you! Merle would never hurt me! It was him who...who...' I stopped when I realised that I had nearly said '... killed Dad for me.'  
He raised his eyebrows in surprise at that.  
'What did Merle do?'  
I clammed up.  
'Why you trembling, son?' He asked me softly, kindly. But I didn't trust that voice because it was the same one Dad had used.  
Usually right before he fucked me, that is.  
'I ain't!' I met his eyes with fury with this lie – I could feel myself shaking all over.  
'Why don't ya just leave me the fuck alone? Ain't got nothin' to say. And no, I wasn't fuckin' abused at home if that's what ya getting at. Had a fuckin' peachy childhood. We were like the fuckin' Waltons. Ya met my brother?'  
I smirked at his shocked expression.  
He raised his eyebrows at this and I glimpsed a gleam of excitement in his eyes. Then I realised that I has used the past tense – said 'were' instead of 'are'. Wanted to kick myself for that stupid slip. No doubt creeps like this shrink would pick up on it and tell the police.  
'What about your brother?' He answered my question with another question. 'Would you like to talk about him? Ya obviously love him.'  
I said shrugged and said nothing. Looked down at the floor because anything I might say could get Merle into more trouble.   
He took out some photos of my back and stomach they'd taken yesterday and laid them down on the table. I saw the scars standing out – looked worse than what I'd seen in the mirror. Did they really look like that? Scaly and red and sticking out?  
I looked like a freak.  
'Wanna take a look, son? That's you, that's your back.'  
I deliberately turned away, shaking my head. Crossed my arms over my shoulders.  
'Why?' I snarled like it was obvious that there was no point.  
He sighed. 'If you've got something to tell me that will help me understand why you helped to rob six stores, why ya a 100 miles away from your home address in the next state, why you missed school, better tell me now, sonny. Like who did this to your back. Help me understand a little? Because if you haven't realised it by now, ya in deep trouble. But I don't think ya a bad kid, are ya?'  
I said nothing.   
'Your back's not the worst of it all, is it Daryl?'  
'Fuck you. I don't got nothin' to say.' I snarled  
' No, someone did something much worse to you, didn't they, son? Hurt you worse than just physically, didn't they?'  
'No...' Despite myself I was trembling and my voice was quivering. His soothing, crooning voice was lulling me and I had to pull out before I gave the truth away.  
'Do you know what sodomising is, Daryl?'  
'No. What's that?' I asked innocently then kicked myself for asking but then I thought it would be good for my act. I didn't know but I could guess what it was even though I'd never heard the word before. Probably the thing Dad had done to me over and over.  
But he didn't answer, just continued his interrogation. 'Did someone force ya to do things ya didn't want to do?' He persisted, like a sledge-hammer, not giving me time to breathe. 'Touch you in ways that made ya uncomfortable?...Make you touch them?'  
I didn't answer, looked down at the ground and hunched my shoulders. Tried to become as small as possible. Memories of Dad touching me, pinning me down with his heavy body crowding my mind, overwhelming me.  
'Sex things?' He prompted as I went red and bowed my head. Not looking at him while he wrote in his damn notebook. He never stopped scribbling in it the whole time until I wanted to grab it out of his hand and tear it up in front of his face.

But I didn't. 

tried to shut out his voice that was exposing my secrets to the air from the darkness where I'd hid them. Took them out sometimes to look at them like they were so many dark and dangerous treasures. But mostly I kept them boxed up down there, in the deepest, darkest place I could find. Dad was kept down there, especially the memory of his fishy pale,bloated body dissolving in the bath-tub. Along with his pleas for mercy and cries of agony when my brother stabbed him and the image of the blood stains on the pure white towel where his crotch had been.  
But sometimes they forced themselves into the light without me wanted them there anyway. Often, when I least expected it.Now the asshole was asking me if someone forced me but didn't he know that he was forcing things into the light that I desperately wanted to stay hidden, forever? Or until at least I was ready to take them out and show them to a select few, if I ever met them.  
'Did they force ya to do things that hurt? Force you to touch them?' Bastard wasn't going to give up until he got an answer. Now he was forcing me!  
I put my hands over my ears. 'Just shut the fuck up and leave me alone!' I sceamed. 'I want my brother! I want Merle!'. I heard myself scream over and over hysterically. 'Get Merle in here!' I yelled at them.  
Then I was screaming, 'Get the fuck off me!' when they pinned me down again and injected me. But the drug they used must have taken longer to work than they expected because I heard them discussing me. Words like 'traumatised', 'aggressive' and 'unco-operative' and finally, 'evidence of severe sexual abuse' washed over me as I fell, down, down.

Pitching over into the black abyss where they were sending me.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, thanks for all the positive reviews and readers asking me for updates soon. Well, what's going to happen? How will the brothers get out of this one? What's happened to Mira? Will Daryl ever see her again?  
> Daryl prevented Merle from making things worse by committing homicide but even so, things are pretty bad for them. Especially for the older Dixon, he's certainly going to jail. But for how long? How will Darly cope without him and he will get off lightly, it being his first offence and his age?  
> Sorry if this chapter isn't so realistic – I tried to do some research on American prisons and laws, some of which vary from state to state but it was quite difficult to find information. Also, I don't have any law or psychology background so I apologise in advance for any discrepancies or unrealistic details.
> 
> I hope it works anyway!

i.

I woke up groggilyin the cell.   
'Daryl?'  
'Yeah?' I snapped irritably at my brother.  
'What ya tell 'em? Do they know?'  
I sighed. 'Yeah. They know everythin'. Were fuckin' hammerin' at me to tell 'em. Especially that asshole shrink. Looked like him too.'  
'What ya give them?'  
'Nothin.'  
I heard him get up from his cot then. Stride toward the bars and start rattling them in anger. '  
I told you what to say! It don't matter 'bout me, I'm fucked anyway. But ya...'  
'No! I ain't sayin' ya did it to me!' I replied, a little too loudly, not bothering to get up from where I was.  
'Do it for me. I'm tellin' ya, it won't make any difference to me.'  
'Yeah, ya keep thinkin' that when they're slicing ya balls off for being a pervert inside.' I sneered.  
'They won't. Can take care of myself.'  
'Do it for me.' He repeated, more quietly and seriously this time.

ii.  
'Daryl?'  
I got up and sighed. I'd dozed off again – not doubt a side-effect of the shit they injected into me.  
'Come with us, son.' The warden said, not unkindly.  
I didn't think I could stand another interrogation about Mira or what Dad had done to me.  
Fuck, I hated this. Our lawyer said our trial was set in two weeks and since we didn't have any money for bail, we'd have to stay here. I was going stir-crazy, wanted to see the mountains, breathe the fresh air. I barely touched the food they gave us – it was disgusting, not like when you caught what you ate yourself. Or grew your own vegetables.  
Most of all, I was scared for Merle. I could have killed him for not stopping, for being greedy and landing us in this mess. We should have quit while the going was good.  
….

They got a new shrink 'to assess my mental competence to stand trial.' This time it was a lady, which made me feel a little better.   
She was nice but all the time but all the time thought that I shouldn't trust her. They might be using me to stitch up Merle even further.  
She didn't start firing questions at me like the other shrink, instead she just started having a conversation with me. She was so engaging that despite my initial resolve not to speak, I found myself telling her about hunting. Even about Merle but nothing too personal – just how he made me mad sometimes and nearly die laughing. Probably I was just sick of having no-one to talk to other than Merle.  
'Do you love your brother, Daryl?'  
I couldn't help nodding vigourously, not mentioning that half the time I wanted to kill him too. Then I remembered what information I should be feeding this woman but I wasn't going to tell her Merle was the one to hurt me.  
She smiled up at me and wrote something down in her notebook.  
'What about your parents?' Her voice grew soft.  
I tensed up at that, looked down at the ground.  
She looked a some papers she'd brought in with her,'It says here...your mother died when you were just nine in a house fire. I'm sorry for that.'  
I shrugged but still didn't look up at her. She didn't know that it was my fault – I'd killed her and that was one of the main reasons Dad did to me what he did.  
She didn't know that I was a murderer and deserved everything I got.   
'What about your father?'  
I went red, I never wanted to speak about that bastard to a stranger ever again but I remembered that we had to keep to our story. Just feed them the minimum of information to back up it up. So, as reluctant as I was to talk about my father, I steeled myself to tell her.  
I raised my head, tried to look genuine. 'Yeah, he's still around but me and Merle don't know where. He often goes off on benders and we don't see him for weeks. That's why we had to leave Georgia.'  
I smiled as convincingly as I could. She raised one eyebrow questioningly.  
'Couldn't pay the bills, didn't know when Dad was gonna get back.' I explained.  
She smiled like she believed me but who knows. Never mind, I thought to myself, she can't prove otherwise. Unless they find Dad's bones...I shivered.  
She looked at me sharply then, saw my movement. Damn! I never could stop my body from betraying me.  
But then that friendly smile was back on her face again. 'Daryl, sweetheart, who hurt you? Was it your father or Merle or both?'  
I stared at her without answering.  
'Don't know what ya talkin' about.' I replied stubbornly.  
'You know.' She continued in that soft voice. 'If you were being abused and that's why you ran away, they'll probably go softer on you for the shoplifting. You've got mitigating circumstances.'  
'Ain't no-one been abusin' me.' I snarled.  
She didn't draw back, didn't even seem surprised. Just kept writing notes down.  
'Daryl...we know. Your back...they did an examination on you. We know what somebody did to you.'  
I bowed my head, my long fringe hiding my face. Despite myself, I started trembling.  
She put a hand on my shoulder but I jerked it away. Backed off to the end of the table opposite her. As far as I could get away without leaving it.  
'I'm sorry.' She said. 'I shouldn't have done that. Or at least asked you first.'  
I shrugged. 'Don't matter.' I looked up at her then. 'Can I go now?'  
'No.' Her tone was unrelenting. I stared at her in surprise.  
'Daryl...' She leaned towards me. 'Ya gotta tell us who...scarred you for life...who...did those other things to you. Did they tell you, you were bad?'  
I glanced at her in disbelief. How could she know what Dad said to me?  
She nodded. 'I know. I bet they told you that you deserved it, didn't they? Or that it was your fault?'  
Despite myself, I was trembling even harder now and tears came into my eyes. But damn if I was going to break down in front of her.   
'Because you're not bad. And none of it was your fault. They were just trying to make themselves feel better because no child deserves that kind of punishment.'  
I kept my head down, not looking at her.  
But then I realised that I was going to have to give her something if I was ever going to get out of here.   
I steeled myself to raise my head, wiping my eyes.. Look her directly in the eye.   
'It weren't Merle.' I told her.

iii.

'Did ya tell them?' My brother asked as soon as we were alone. No need to ask what he was talking about.   
'No.'   
He started rattling the bars again then in fury and I knew that if he was in the cell with me, he'd shake me probably until my teeth fell out of my head or slap me.  
'I ain't sayin' it was you! Don't ya know ya'll be branded a pervert for the rest of ya life? 'Sides, ya got scars too.'  
'Don't matter. I ain't a minor and I didn't run away from home. They don't care about me.'  
He paused suddenly, taking in what I'd just told him before the penny finally dropped.  
'Don't ya know what ya done, ya stupid little idiot! Did ya tell them it was him? They're gonna start poking around our house – they'll figure out what happened. ' He hissed, keeping his voice down.  
'Ya the idiot! It's obvious it wasn't you. They can see how you are with me.'  
'What' s that supposed to mean?' He was immediately defensive.  
'Jus' how ya are with me, is all.''

…..

The next was the detective who spoke to me with his second-in-command on one side of the table while I sat on the other with our lawyer. He got right down to business.  
'So, we know why you ran away from home and went on your little crime spree. Your father was abusing you physically and sexually and God knows in what other ways.' He looked at me to see what effect his words were having on me but I deliberately kept my face blank. My lawyer looked shocked even though he should have been prepared – known what's going on. Well- me and Merle hadn't told him the truth – just kept to our story.   
'That true? You poor boy.' The attorney tried to put his arm around me but I shook it off angrily. I hated that look – of pity that was even in the detective's eyes. He looked at the lawyer with contempt like he should have known this.   
I glared at the detective, refusing to back down even if he threw my past in my face.  
'It's true, ain't it, Daryl? Ya Daddy was rapin' you and brutally at that, wasn't he? Was Merle too? Learned behaviour is often repeated in families.'  
I started shaking then at his bluntness. 'No, Merle didn't! He never fuckin' touched me!' I yelled.  
The assitant looked at me then. 'Calm down, son. It's OK.'  
I bit back the angry retort on my lips. I was just a job to them, to the shitty lawyer at my side. They didn't care, just wanted to get their answers out of me and go home.  
I sat back and folded my arms. Eyeballing the cops mercilessy. 'Think what ya like. I ain't sayin' nothin'.'  
'Well, you might want to reconsider that. Because let me tell you what I think happened. You jus' had enough one day, couldn't take havin' his hands all over ya no more.' I couldn't help myself flinch at his bluntness and he noticed.  
' Please believe me son - I ain't blamin' ya son, not one little bit – but murder's murder' . Someone needs to pay.' He finished and glanced at his man who nodded – after he shouldn't have really been saying that. 'You or your brother or both of you murdered your father. Got rid of the body somewhere and decided to up sticks. Even though you should still be attending school. Ain't that right, son?'  
'Objection!' The man beside me and barked. 'You can't know what happened. You ain't got no evidence.'  
The detective 'Carlos' his name badge said, smirked at him. 'We'll find out soon. Got my men digging the garden and checking all over their house. We're also gonna be talking to ya brother, too.'  
I felt sick. Would they open up the septic tank and find the bones in there? Still, they couldn't prove anything – that they were his. I hoped but what did I know about that shit? I hoped the bones were dissolved by now. Would the DNA inside the bones be destroyed as well?  
I trembled but faced him. Kept to me and Merle's story. 'Dad disappeared – he often does that -goes days boozin'. '  
'Did he abuse you? Is that why you boys killed him?'  
I bowed my head.  
'Tell us, son. It's OK.' The younger assitant took up the interrogation.  
'I ain't tellin' ya.' I ooked up then to eye-ball them both. 'Anyways, we didn't kill him. He's still alive as far as we know. Livin' it up somewhere else.' I deliberately lied, keeping my voice level.   
The detective opened his mouth then but my attorney cut him off. 'Think that's enough, don't ya, boys?'  
But the man pointed at me, watching me narrowly. 'I'm watching you, son.' His parting shot.  
I nearly flipped him the bird but restrained myself as they led me away back to my cell.  
Merle was snoring when I got back.  
'Merle...'  
Snore.  
'Merle...wake the fuck up!'  
He came to with a jolt. 'What?....Where's Dad?'  
'Idiot! They know!' I hissed. Hoping that they didn't have microphones down here. I knew they had cameras so Iwas careful what I said.  
He was silent. I didn't have to elaborate.  
'They're gonna talk to you. They don't believe that he just disappeared neither.'  
Still no answer, so I nervously carried on  
'They asked me...M....Merle.... ...if he.....he....fuck...fucked...me....' I started trembling. I wrapped my arms around me on the bench and buried my aching head into my knees. Thought I was getting over it but suddenly I could feel his groping, greedy touch and him pinning me down. I shook my head to clear it of the memories.  
'Sh...Sh...It's OK. Relax.' I heard my brother say calmly. 'They can't prove nothin', even if they search the place.'  
I sighed. 'Ya sure? It's bad enough we're goin' to jail for the thievin'.'  
'I am – ya not. Most ya'll get is juvie, if that. Go to sleep now, Little Darlena.' He ordered before I heard him turning in his bunk and sleeping again. Jesus, how could he sleep so much? It was the middle of the day. Had he sneaked in some pills with him? But they'd searched us thoroughly before they'd locked us up. Knowing my brother, he'd probably found a way to hide them somewhere on his body but I couldn't think where. I'd hated it when they'd made us spread our cheeks when they'd brought us in here – brought back fun-times with Dad.  
Suddenly, although I was completely adverse to drugs – seeing what they'd done to their Merle and I didn't like losing control, I badly wanted something to calm me down or give me a high.  
I shrugged off the craving, opening the book the Warden had considerately given me.   
A damn crime novel about the murder of a famous movie-star. Was he trying to tell me something?

The trial date loomed closer and closer, the days before passing faster than I could have imagined, the results of which would change our lives forever.


	18. Chapter 18

i.  
Daryl

We were waiting for the trial – nothing to do but kill time. A few prisoners came and went, some tried to rile up Merle but as soon as he threatened them, they soon shut up. Usually, he didn't have to do much more than glare for them to back off. That famous Dixon death-stare soon shut them up.  
Except for one guy – about my brother's age. Small, slim and Hispanic – who they put in the cell next to me, furtherest away from Merle. I didn't like him – something about the way he looked at me, reminded me of the way my father's gaze slithered all over me once I turned sweet sixteen. Like it had given him permission to start messing with me like he did.  
He started by whispering filth at me, crooning at me. Calling me 'Daddy's boy' and that made me think that the bastard was right, that he 'd marked me and perverts would always find me out.   
I gave him the finger. Besides I was getting taller and filling out now – wouldn't be such an easy target forever. Still, I was no match for a fully-grown man like my brother but this asshole was small and wiry.   
Merle heard, tipped his ear. Snarled at him. 'Ya stay away from 'im, ya fag piece of shit. Ya a bit far North outta Mexico, ain't ya, Spic? Like threatnin' kids, do ya? Think ya big man, huh?'  
Still, the bastard would croon to me all the things he wanted to do to me after light's out and Merle was out of it on whatever he'd managed to get hold of, snoring his head off. I'd seen him swallow pills discreetly and wondered where he got it from. He saw me looking and smirked, never offered to get me any drugs but I didn't know if I would have taken them if he had. Didn't want to lose my head, be weak especially when they were still interrogating me every day, hounding me about my father. The lady psychiatrist called Madeline according to her name-badge, did too but in a more gentle way than the rough cops but was no less persistant. Kept asking me what he did to me but I kept my mouth shut. How could I talk to her about the dog-collar around my throat and the knife he thrust inside me, making me bleed for weeks afterwards? Or how he made me pretend I liked it once? How he could me his 'sweet little whore' and a 'dirty little bitch' just like I was a girl? I hadn't even told Merle that stuff- couldn't bear to. I found dealing with her the most difficult – I'd been on the brink of breaking down and telling her everything a few times especially since she'd taken to putting her arm around me sometimes during the sessions. She was in her mid-forties, I guess with her blond hair piled up on top of her head in a beehive and she always smelled nice like flowers. I guess it was probably her perfume and I probably let her because she reminded me of Mama, with the soothing way she talked to me and I still missed her. As well as feeling guilty about how she died even though Merle said it wasn't my fault over and over, patiently explaining to me that it was just Dad's sick way to justify what he did to me, I still didn't quite believe him. But she never pushed me too far like the detective and his men always did like they didn't care about me, only wanted to get the truth and stopped when she she saw I'd had enough.  
Every time I came back from her, Merle would grill me to see that I hadn't told her anything. Luckily, he'd given up on making me tell them that he'd done it to me – it was a dumb idea anyway. He said we'd be OK (he meant about Dad) as long as we kept our mouth shut. I told him that I only talked about harmless stuff like when we were kids and the pranks we used to get up to like stealing all of Mr Roberts' milk bottles because we didn't have any food in the house or stolen Cindy's - the local prostitute's - lacy bras from her washing-line. How me and Merle had put them on over our clothes and strutted around the house afterwards, imitating her sickly-sweet, high-pitched voice, 'Come here, baby. Let me show you a real good time' And the other things she used to say on the street corner, even to Merle when I was with him. How we fell about in helpless laughter until we heard Dad come home and hurried to hide them. Or when I was 12, we'd got so drunk and pissed all over my teacher's car, then smashed open the windows and then let fly all over the seats because he'd given me a detention for nothing and reported it to Dad. Earning me what I told her was 'a slap' and a week's grounding when it had actually been a beating so vicious that I couldn't get out of a bed for a week. She didn't look like she believed that he'd only given me a slap or that she found these stories particularly funny.  
When the warden, I'd learnt his name was Bob - wasn't busy, he'd come and talk to me and Juan would stay in the shadows of his cell, pretending to read or sleep or whatever. But I knew the creep was listening to every word we said.   
Bob was kind to me, I suspected he felt sorry for me but he never showed it. Just treated me like normal. He'd come into my cell and play board-games with me and give me books. I didn't even know if it was legal for him to do that, he just said to hide them if his boss came round. He never gave Merle any special treatment or any of the other prisoner who drifted in and out. Prostitutes, junkies, dealers, pimps, drunks, pickpocketing street-kids, teen prostitutes – barely legal all passed through.  
I saw them all. Some of the girls looked like Mira and I wondered how she was. What had happened to her.  
I knew why I was getting the special treatment from Bob, from the psychiatrist. They knew what somebody had done to me and they rightly suspected it had been my own father. But I hated the pity even though I could take perks.

Merle said they tried to get him to tell them what had happened but they'd quickly given up. Did what our lawyer had advised us to do and kept his mouth shut. Kept denying we knew anything about the bastard's whereabouts and they wouldn't have a case and they would have wasted all their time and man-power, not to mention the expense. That's if they weren't bluffing about looking for Dad's body in the house, in the garden like Merle suspected they were. Why would they waste their precious resources looking for a piece of drunk, son-abusing, redneck piece of white trash from the middle of nowhere? Just over the county border in fact, which was another jurisdiction, so my big brother pointed out. Didn't make sense. That they would look like idiots in front of everybody, that's why they were so determined to get something out of me that they could pin on us, my brother said. Make them look good – get their crime-solving statistics up because that's all they cared about. The lawyer had said nothing of course, was about as helpful as a teapot made out of chocolate because somehow Merle seemed to understand our situation clearer than he did without a law degree. I'd always known my big brother was smart. They'd seen me as the weaker link they could eventually break, I guess and the thought filled me with rage. Fuck them, I thought to myself angrily, determined to show them I wasn't going to spill my guts. That I was going to give them anything, just like my big brother. But I saw him smiling as he whispered on the other side of me through the bars, 'Don't worry, Darlena. Ya big brother's still got a trick or two up his sleeve from someone who owes him a favour. Big time. I'm gonna get us out of this mess.'  
'How?' I hissed back. Couldn't believe how cocky and self-assured he was sounding. 'We're on trial in five fuckin' days!'  
'Jus' ya wait and see, little brother. No worries.'  
'What do ya mean?'  
But he wouldn't say. Damn him! I thought. He's out of his mind if he thinks he can win this one.   
Why did he torture me with hope?

Merle  
ii.

I had a plan and Daryl was playing his part. Just had to get that one phonecall they owed me...  
My head snapped up when I heard my brother snarling.  
'Ya touch me and I'll gut ya like the pig ya are. Already killed someone.' He was bragging, lying but dangerously close to the truth.   
He didn't believe him. 'Yeah? A sweet peach like ya? Ya wouldn't have the balls.'  
'Jus' try me, faggot.'   
He laughed.  
'I killed my old man.' I heard him hiss although it was a lie. Probably he wished he had done instead of me.  
'Shut up, Darlena!' I hissed even though I was proud of how tough he'd become, capable of standing up for himself when he'd been so broken and fragile just a few months ago, always clinging onto me. His face had filled out, the dark bags of exhaustion disappeared from under his eyes. Of course, now he was approaching his 17th birthday, he was growing and filling out. Finally getting some muscles on him.   
Part of me whispered that it was because the old man was gone and he didn't have to be scared anymore. But I knew that didn't make any sense. So what if he grew slower than I did at his age?  
I made a mental note that if my far-fetched plan worked, we'd be free and I'd give him the birthday of his life . By then, I hoped he would have a girl because he'd be legal then and I'd know that was Dad did to him hadn't fucked him up for life in that area. I'd been reassured to see him getting close to Mira, she was a good girl who could be trusted not to hurt him, I knew. 

Not that being under-age had ever stopped me.

'Shut the fuck up, boy!' I ordered him again but he didn't seem to hear me, intent as he was on intimidating the child-selling piece of shit on the other side of him. It was clear that he wouldn't need me to protect him much longer.   
I wasn't worried about his boastful lie - even though I didn't know who might be listening. Because I knew that even though we might be enemies, all the prisoners had a little, unspoken confidentiality pact going on between us and that he wouldn't rat me out. No matter what I told him and vice-versa.  
'Is that because he fucked ya hot, tight little ass?' The bastard kept baiting my baby brother and I tensed up, ready to let fly even though I couldn't do much behind the bars.  
'Yeah.' he snarled back.  
'Ya can always come and work for me, boy if ya run outta options. Since ya already been broken in good by ya Daddy.' I hissed when I heard the sick piece of shit guessing what had happened to him and throwing it back into his face.  
He laughed filthily and I could see him leering at my 16 year old brother. I vowed that next time we had a shower that I was going to kill that bastard. Just for looking at my little brother sideways apart from all the other things he'd said to him.  
'Fuck you.'  
'Would ya like to?' He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise and pleasure as his tongue flicked out of his mouth and circled his lips greedily.   
Daryl smirked instead of getting intimidated and gave him the finger as he turned his back on him to go back to his cot like the conversation had been boring him. I felt a new surge of big brotherly pride at how he was handling himself, keeping his cool. 

Like a man. 

Like a Dixon.

iii.

Mira

I made my way to the jail where I'd finally tracked them. I'd dyed my hair red this time, had found a good refuge for women on the run to stay and I was safer than I'd felt in a long time.  
I hoped, I prayed that they were there, just like they'd told me.

It was a forbidding building but then jails are supposed to be places where you'd want to stay, are they? High walls covered with electric barbed wire. Guards at the gate with big guns.   
Maybe tomorrow, I would try to visit him but I couldn't risk being caught.   
I decided that I would come here every day and maybe I would catch a glimpse of them. Or I could bribe some underpaid orderly to get information for me. The safe-house had helped me to get a job 'off the books' , working as a chamber-maid in a local motel.  
I'd had to spill about my stepfather, painful as it was and they'd taken me in. I wondered why they'd believed me but the manager – called Carol, believed my story. I was so grateful that I nearly broke down crying. 'Why?' I'd asked her incredously. 'Why do you believe me?'  
'It's all in the eyes.' She'd answered, pointing her at her own. ' I can tell that you're not a liar. You're a good girl, I can see that. '  
I shivered as I remembered my own mother who refused to believe me or rather didn't want to believe me. '  
She continued. 'My own husband was an abuser and I had to come here six months ago with my little girl when he threw me down the stairs and stamped on me. Nearly killed me – that was a wake-up call.' She said all of this matter-of-factly without an ounce of self-pity and I admired her for her strength. 'At least now I can help others in similar situations.'  
'We have counsellors here on site.' She continued. Even male ones if the resident agrees. Sometimes it helps, believe it or not. Don't be concerned but we also have men working here but they aren't allowed to approach the women here first. We try to show the residents that not all men are like the ones who abused them. They come in handy keeping us safe from the abusive men looking for their family members here.'  
'Thank-you, thank-you.' I gushed. So relieved to be off the streets. In other places, they'd told me I was a minor and that they couldn't take the responsibility for me. Or threatened to turn me in to the police, even if I lied about my age. But Carol didn't seem to care, besides, I would turn 18 in a few weeks. In return, I babysat her daughter called Sophia, a twelve year old girl who eerily reminded me of myself at her age. She hardly spoke and barely smiled and I wondered what she seen or gone through to make her shut herself off like that. So, I vowed to bring her out of her shell. I hadn't succeeded yet but I was determined. For her mother's sake as well as her own.  
I don't know why but Carol made me trust her so I told her about Daryl. She had some cop friends who were sympathetic to her work and they let me know that he was there, in the jail like I'd hoped.   
I couldn't help wondering if Daryl was OK, even if his brother was too, even after what he did.  
Merle had come on to me when Daryl was out of the room. Gone to get more booze and clear his head, so he'd said.We'd been drinking, smoking weed so I was pretty relaxed.   
He'd reached out and touched my hair, tucking a stray strand behind my ear. Who would have expected a guy like him to be so gentle? I'd closed my eyes even though I told myself I'd never felt any attraction for the older Dixon, although I had to admit he was sexy in a rugged, dangerous kind of way.  
'No need to be scared, girl. Not gonna hurt ya, promise. Jus' wanna see kiss ya, is all.' He crooned seductively in my ear. Like he knew what had happened to me and understood.  
He'd lent forward until our lips bumped. Wound his hand around the back of my hair and tugged it gently. Before I knew it, he was kissing me!   
I let him for a few seconds before I realised what was happening. I was enjoying the kiss before I drew back and slapped him. Hard. 'Get off me!' I hissed furiously.  
Forgetting that he was the kind of guy who would hit me back.  
But he didn't. Only drew back and laughed. 'I knew it. I can get any chick I want.'  
'No, you can't!'  
'No, ya belong to my brother and ya better not hurt him. Ya pushed me away. That's how I know ya gonna be good for my brother because not many girls tell me to stop. ''  
'Don't try it again.' I told him. 'Jus' 'cos I'm drunk and stoned...Anyway, ya not all that. I wanted to put him down a little for his arrogance. How dare he think he's God's gift?  
He shrugged. 'Whatever. Ya Daryl's now. I understand. About time that boy had love in his life.'  
We sat there in uneasy silence until Daryl returned with the beer. I wondered if I should tell him what his brother did- no, what I had done too, but I kept silent.


	19. Chapter 19

i.

Daryl

There were on at me never seeming to give up. Carlos and his sidekick Belini asking me over and over where my Daddy's body was. While I sat there with the dumbass because he was free lawyer that it took all my strength to tell to get him to get lost, that I'd represent myself in court.  
'Look.' Carlos said, spreading his arms on the desk, trying to appear inviting but not fooling me.  
'We know what he did to you. We're not blaming you – just tell us where the body is.'  
I smirked and crossed my arms over my chest. 'What are ya all talkin' about?' I asked sardonically, acting dumb. 'He never hurt me. He loved me and Merle. Ya tellin' me my Dad's dead?' I started to act worried then, even forced tears into my eyes, even though I hated crying, Dixons don't cry but I'd been doing a lot of it in the last year or so. Playing the dumb redneck for all it was worth. 'But …he's out there somewhere, right?' I tried to sound worried.  
The one named Belini, Italian looking type like his name banged his fists on the table, making me flinch. Something told me that had been his intention all along. I liked him even less than Carlos because he would raise his voice and get angry during our interviews. 'Don't play us, boy. He was rapin' ya - your own father - and Merle killed him for it, didn't he?'  
I made my eyes go wide. Despite the fact that they'd struck upon the truth.  
'Ya don't have to answer that.' The lawyer told me.  
'He's already told us.' They said. For a moment, my heart leapt in my mouth.But then I laughed quietly inside because Merle had warned me they would try this. They didn't think I had it in me to kill our father or even if I had, they assumed we must have done it together. That Merle would say he did it to protect me but they were just guessing and they were bluffing to try and make me admit what we'd done.  
'He's lyin' to protect me. He thinks if he gives ya what ya want, that you'll go easy on me. But it ain't true. I told ya, he jus' disapeared one day on one of his benders. He's always doin' it. He'll show up again anytime. He always does.'  
'Why would he admit to a crime he didn't commit? Especially murder - a lot of prison time, don't ya think, for something he didn't do?' The lawyer shushed me. 'Don't say anything more.'  
I ignored him. 'I jus' want them to stop. Clear things up but they don't believe me! We were put in here for shoplifting and suddenly it's turned into a fuckin' murder investigation! Ya even allowed to do that?' I yelled at them.  
They dragged me back to the cell after that but I could tell their frustration was growing. Time was running out – the trial was in two days. We just had to hold out until then.  
'Did ya tell them anythin'?' Merle hissed as soon as we were alone. Seriously, I don't know why they let us be next to each other – didn't they know we'd talk? Or maybe that was their plan and they really were listening to us.  
'No. Did you? They said you did.'  
'Ya didn't fall for that old trick, did ya, baby brother? Thought ya had more brains than that.'  
'Nah. Look – we were put in here for shopliftin' 'cos we ain't got no money for bail but can they really turn it into a murder charge?'  
'Guess so. Stupid pricks.'

….

Luckily that piece of shit next to me had kept quiet the last few days and we more or less ignored each other. I hope that would be the end of it. The worse thing about him was that he had known somehow what had happened to me and the bastard's words came back to haunt me that 'He'd marked me for his own.' Did that mean low-lifes like Juan would always be able to sniff me out?  
I bent my forehead into my knees as I wrapped my arms around me, wanting my brother.  
He must have sensed how I was feeling even though he couldn't see me on the bench.  
'It's OK...It's OK. I'm gonna get us out of here soon.'  
For the first time in days, Juan piped up to give a mocking, filthy sounding laugh.  
'Ya keep ya mouth shut, ya waste of space.' Merle hissed at him and he stopped.  
I sighed. 'We're only getting' out of here to go back to prison. Ya now that, don't ya, Merle?'  
'Don't ya worry. We ain't going to no jail.'  
'Good. 'Cos I don't know how much more of this shit I can take. Their question about him, asking me over and over what he did to me, how we killed him, where his fuckin' body is.'  
'Stay strong, little brother. Don't say nothin', two more days and we'll be free.'  
'Ya don't fuckin believe that.'  
I heard him chuckle smugly and somehow, even though I knew it was crazy, I felt an unfamiliar emotion I hadn't felt for a long time.  
I felt hope. 

ii.  
Daryl  
It was the day before the trial. I was having a shower. Didn't even hear him behind me until he grabbed me. Groping me all over - especially between my legs and flinging me to the floor.  
'Come here, sweet cheeks.' My assailant crooned in my ear. 'Ya know ya want it. Been givin' me those looks, ain't ya?.'  
'Fuck you!' I thrashed and flailed. I wasn't small and skinny anymore – nearly as big as Merle. Not such an easy target. Had been filling out even on the prison rations I barely touched most days. Even though Bob tried to get me to eat. He'd sneak me in chocolate, chips and cookies instead – I was pretty sure he wasn't allowed to do that. He'd talk about his son who was about a year younger than me, doing well in school and his daughter who wanted to be a nurse. He sounded so proud of them that I wished I'd had a Dad like him.

Without thinking or panicking, I drove my elbow back into my attacker's face. Didn't even have time to wonder who he was.  
But I knew.  
He let me go as I leapt to my feet. I started kicking Juan furiously as he lay on the floor.  
Screaming obscenities at him that I barely heard myself. 'Piece of shit! Don't fuckin' touch me ever again!'  
I hear clapping and someone holding me back with their strong arms.'Well done, Darlena.' My brother crooned in my ear. 'I know he deserves it but we want to get out of here someday. Don't make things worse for us. Let him go, fucker ain't worth it.'  
'No!' I screamed. I saw a red haze in front of my eyes as I struggled against my brother as he held me back. I wondered if they'd come storming in here – they watched us all the time, even in here.  
Especially in the showers. We didn't have a second of privacy to ourselves – not when we showered, ate or took a shit.  
But no one came – maybe they'd taken their eyes off the monitors  
'Ya know what he was tryin' to do!' I screamed. 'Let me go!'  
I would have carried on kickin' the bastard but as much as I had grown, Merle was still stronger than me.  
'Come on.' He dragged away and sneered at Juan lying on the tiles, blood pouring from eyebrow and clutching his stomach where I'd kicked him. 'You – keep ya fuckin' mouth shut, if ya know what's good for ya. Ya must have deserved it. Don't fuckin' go near him again or you'll have me to deal with.'  
He whispered to me, 'What did he do to ya, huh? Did he touch ya?' He growled.  
I shook my head. 'Tried to.'  
'I'm proud of ya, little brother. Fighting like a Dixon.' He let me go. 'Almost all grown-up now, huh, boy?'  
We were all naked and once upon a time I would have been embarrassed.  
But that was a long time ago – before Dad.  
Juan nodded. It was the unwritten rule of the prisoners, no one would snitch on the others no matter what was said or done. He had the good grace to even look ashamed, guilty.  
'Stay the fuck away from me, ya piece of shit.' I snarled down at him and gave him a last kick to the ribs. He never bothered me since that day not that I had a lot of time left. His trial for kiddie-trafficking was in a week or so after our trial.  
I think I even heard the pussy sobbing as we left the shower-room. Merle's mouth twisted into a cruel sneer. He'd kill anyone who tried to hurt me, I knew that. 

My big brother had always been that way. 

With me.

iii.  
Daryl

After my shower, I was sitting with the psychiatrist. Two days before the trial. She was getting impatient, I could tell because she still hadn't got what she wanted out of me.  
What had happened in the shower must have affected me more that I realised because the first thing she asked me was 'Why are you shaking?' with a troubled frown on her face.  
I shrugged. Tried to stop myself. 'It's nothin'.'  
She raised an eye-brow. 'Now, I don't believe that.'  
'Well, ya gonna jus' have to! I'm fine!'. I almost yelled.  
She drew back in alarm then and I realised I'd scared her.  
I shrugged. 'Sorry.'  
She accepted my mumbled apology with a small smile.  
'But you're still shaking.'  
I said nothing, looked down as though fascinated by something on the floor.  
'Did...did somethin' happen?'  
'I told ya nothin' happened. Why don't ya jus' leave it at that.'  
'Would you like to talk? You only have two days until the trial. Anything you can tell me that can help you...'  
'No, I don't want to talk!' I snapped. 'I don't want to be here! We were only meant to be charged with shopliftin', now they're accusing us of killin' him!'  
'Your father?' She asked softly and despite my resolve not to talk, I found myself gabbling. Like I couldn't stop.  
'Did you?'  
'No!'  
'Did Merle?'  
'No, of course not! He jus' upped and went on another one of his benders!' I lied but couldn't meet her eyes. She would know that I was lying.  
Instead, she didn't question me this, seemed to accept what I said. But I knew whatever I said she would report back to the detectives. It was her job although she appeared to be on my side.  
'Why would they think you killed him?'  
I shrugged even though we both knew the answer. Hadn't she been trying to get it out of me since I'd got here.  
'Did he hurt you and Merle?'  
I shrugged but I was still trembling.  
'Did he give you those scars on your back? On your chest?' Her voice had got quiet now.  
I shrugged again, not answering.  
She reached out and put an arm around me. Merle had warned me about this but I simply didn't have the strength to shrug it off. Besides, it felt nice.  
'You can tell me.'  
I turned on her then. 'Why? So you can tell them?'  
'That's not my job. Only if you've committed a crime....In fact, if he abused you that's a good explanation for you running away then shoplifting when you ran out of money.'  
I turned away, sure she could see my guilt.  
'What about Merle? Me talkin' gonna help him?'  
'It might. If he took you away from where you were in danger...'  
I was on the verge of pushing her away and denying everything. Despite what brother's instructions. But if it helped Merle too...and something inside me wanted to talk after keeping my secrets – things I hadn't even told him – for so long.  
'I'm on your side.' She whispered.  
I looked down at my hands. I was digging my nails into my palm.  
'Did he hurt you and your brother?'  
'Yeah.' I answered dreamily. Feeling like I was in a dream.  
She pulled her arm around me tighter.  
'How?'  
I knew I shouldn't tell, Merle I told me I shouldn't.  
'Your back?' She prompted.  
'Belt.'  
I got up then. Shook her arm off me. 'Look, I'm not doin' this! Ya can't make me tell ya!'  
She sighed. 'No. I can't. But I bet he made you do things you didn't want to do, didn't he?'  
I went red. Looked down at the floor.How did she know? Of course she knew, everybody did. That's what they were trying to get out of me.  
'It's OK. Come and sit back with me.' She patted the seat beside her while I was pacing around.  
I glanced back at her. 'Just let me go will you? I don't got nothin' to say.'  
But I wandered over there and she put her arm around me again. Didn't even ask me if that was OK.  
'Why?' She asked. 'No child deserves anything like what he did to you. Scarred you for life.'  
I shrugged like I didn't care. 'Punishment.'  
Then despite myself, I continued telling her. It was like once I started, I couldn't stop.  
All the time Merle was at the back of my mind, calling me a 'Pussy' for not being able to deal with shit on my own. Dixons don't talk. Especially to the authorities. 'Weren't the only punishment.'  
'How else did he punish you?'  
'Knife.'  
She couldn't keep the shock out of her voice. 'He cut you?'  
'Yeah.' I kept my voice flat but I could feel my trembling go up a new tempo. 'Big fuckin' deal.' I shut my eyes, trying not to remember when he'd slashed my chest – thin, shallow cuts that had hurt like hell.  
But that wasn't the worst thing he'd done with his knife – oh no. But I couldn't tell her that.  
'Did he punish you in other ways?'  
I bowed my head.  
'How else did he punish you, sweetheart?'  
I shook my head. 'Mustn't say, can't say, I mumbled.  
Her hand left my shoulder to stroke my hair. I bowed my head in shame. But I let her keep on doing what she was doing.  
'He fucked me, OK!' My voice rose in a yell. 'Happy now? Ya'll know anyway. 'How old were you when it started?'  
'16. Don't know why he waited so long. Guess even sick bastards like him need to build up to it.' I chuckled at my own poor joke, she didn't and my laughter sounded shallow even to my own ears.  
'Ya wanna really know what he he did?' It was like I was on a rollercoaster – once I started rolling, I couldn't stop. 'Called me 'his sweet little whore' jus' like I was a girl, called me a 'bitch' and 'slut'.  
'He raped you. He emasculated you. Took away your power and your sexual choice.'  
I didn't know what that word meant but I could guess its meaning. 'Yeah! Sick fuck turned me into a girl! Can't count how many times he told me he'd wished I'd been a daughter instead of a son! I never even told Merle this when he..when...'  
I was stumbling over my words now, knew that I had nearly given everything away.  
'Does Merle know?'  
'No!' I answered emphatically.  
'But he looks after you, doesn't he?'  
'Yeah, so? He's my big brother.'  
'But what you have is something special, isn't it?'  
I rounded on her. 'What?'  
She backed off and I didn't know what she was getting at. Of course Merle took care of me. Why wouldn't he?'   
'I mean you would be close with a father like that. He protected you when he could, didn't he? Can you tell me what's your worst memory of your Dad?'  
That was easy. It wasn't even the last time with the belt around my neck. Him holding it in his hand like I was a dog while he rode me. Tightening it at times and cutting off my breath. The time when Merle had found us.  
Merle didn't even know the worst. What he'd seen had only scratched the surface of all the things he had done to me. I didn't know if he could deal with the rest if he knew.  
Somehow it had felt good to tell her. Like a heavy stone I had been carrying around for months had been lifted off my back.  
I took a deep breath before answering. When he slashed me with the knife and stuck it inside me. Threatened to cut me open from the inside if I didn't let him use his cock instead.  
She made some inarticulate noise of distress and started to stroke my hair again. I was pretty sure that she wasn't supposed to get more upset than me. Or show it anyway.  
'Sh...sh...'  
But the worst thing ...when he made me pretend to like it that time and he threatened to cut mine off if I didn't convince him because 'All he needed me for was my asshole and my sweet mouth.' I'd edited what he actually said to make it sound not so bad.  
Seriously, I thought she was going to faint. I wondered if it was all too much for to take – I wouldn't blame her if it was and if I should stop spilling my guts to her. But she continued.  
'He threatened to castrate you? You were just an object to him, not a son, not a person. A pawn to be used for his own pleasure.'  
I sighed because she'd only confirmed what I'd known anyway. I nodded but I'd stopped trembling by now. But something inside me want to still defend him anyway. 'He weren't always like that....he changed after I turned 16. Dunno why. I mean he'd always hit me and stuff...but sometimes he was OK.'  
I didn't tell what he'd done to me on my 16th birthday and the way my body had betrayed me even though I hadn't wanted it. I'd had to keep somethings to myself.  
'It's not your fault.' She told me. 'No-body deserves the things he did to you. Especially not a child or teenager. Anyway, I'm sure such a sweet boy like you didn't do anything bad.'  
'I ain't sweet!' Something snapped inside me then because why did everyone call me that? Did it mean they saw me as an easy target? Even the sick fuck had. ' I'm bad. He did it 'cos I'm bad and I killed her.' I looked at her sideways and curled up into a ball, wanted to make excuses for him for some reason. 'Otherwise...why did he do that sick shit to me?' I pleaded with her to give me answers.  
'You mean he told you he punished you in that way because you killed your mother? But she died in a fire. It's not your fault. You weren't even there when it happened. Besides, that happened when you were nine. A long time to wait to start punishing you for it afterwards, don't you think?'  
That's what Merle had said – of course, told me time and time again after he'd found out. He'd overheard the sick things the bastard was saying to me. Said it was just an excuse to make himself feel better about what he was doing to me.  
'But I bought her the wine and cigarettes!'  
'The fire wasn't your fault, Daryl. None of it was. You're not bad and don't you ever, ever think you are!' She grew serious then, almost angry even in her efforts to make me believe what she was saying.  
To change the subject to happier things, I told her about Mira. 'I think... I've met this girl but I don't know if I'm ever going to get out of here to see her again. Or how I'm gonna find her if I even do.'  
She smiled in relief then. 'That's great you've found someone, building a life and a relationship after everything that happened to you.'  
I looked down at the carpet and gave up the nagging worry worm that had been gnawing at me ever since the first time Dad touched me. 'Will ….what he did ...will it make me gay?'  
'Do you feel attracted to the same sex? Men and boys?'  
'No.'  
'Well, then.'  
'What are ya gonna tell them?'  
'What do you want me to tell them?'  
'Nothing.'  
'I'll have to if they ask me about mitigating circumstances in sentencing.'  
'You gonna say I'm crazy?' I asked almost aggressively.  
'No. But it's a wonder you're as whole as you are going through all that. But I have a feeling that your brother is partly to thank for that because it would have destroyed most people what your father did to you.  
I recalled all the times Merle had pulled me to him and stroked my hair, sometimes for hours – just holding me in silence mostly, after he killed Dad.  
I shrugged. 'I'm a Dixon. We're tough.'  
She smiled then and looked at the clock. She let us go over by almost quarter of an hour. I hadn't cried but I was feeling lighter. I'd told her stuff I hadn't even told Merle and I hoped that I wouldn't see her again after this, even if I did like her. However, I had to be prepared in case she gave evidence in court on my competence to stand trial and brought up all these secrets. I hoped she wouldn't – especially not in front of my big brother.  
The next day was the trial.


	20. Chapter 20

i.  
Daryl

The day of the trial dawned and I prayed that what I had told Madeline the psychiatrist wouldn't come up in court but I wasn't naïve to really believe it wouldn't. I was worried most of all because I didn't want my brother to hear – he didn't know everything by any means – in fact, I'd kept the best gems about what Dad did to me to myself. But now I was regretting opening my mouth to her now but there had been some relief in telling someone about it.  
We put on the free suits they'd provided us and my skin itched at that scratchy, cheap material. My one was too big on the shoulders for me and my brother's was too tight on him. I looked at him as he eyed me up and down mockingly. Dixons don't wear suits. 'You look nice, little brother.'  
'Fuck you.' I growled at him and he laughed. 'So do you.'  
'What's gonna happen?' I asked him, suddenly serious. I was still childishly believing that he could really get us out of the trouble we were in. He still hadn't told me what his plan was, he'd only winked at me. 'Can't tell you, Darlena. Better ya don't know...in case they ask ya about it afterwards, then you can't tell them.'  
'As if I would? I wanna know why ya lookin' so cocky and pleased with yaself when we're about to be sent to jail.'  
'You wouldn't be anyway. They'll send you to juvie – you should have blamed me more.'  
'Yeah – you know what those places are like?He won't be the same when he comes out. He'll be even more of a wreck than he is now.' Juan piped up, listening to our conversation. Merle rounded on him. 'Who asked you, you piece of shit? When's ya trial, anyway? I hope they lock ya up and throw away the key.'  
The coward immediately shut up and I ignored him.  
'I told ya I wasn't gonna do that. Or lie and say I'm scared of you.' I told Merle.  
'Well then, you're a little fool. But if it's worked, it won't matter either way. 'Cos we'll be free. We're finally gonna get out of this dump.'  
I looked at him as if to weigh him up. Wanting desperately to believe him but not seeing how what he said could be true.  
'What did you do, Merle? Tell me! Did you have the witnesses killed?' I hissed in his ear. 'What did you fuckin' do?'  
He punched my arm playfully as he whispered back. 'That's for me to know and you to find out. But no-one was hurt, promise.'  
'Better not have been.' I growled.  
But then the warden came down and we were hand-cuffed and escorted to the courthouse that was conveniently across the road. Bob gave me a few paternal pats on my back. 'Good luck in court, son. It's been nice havin' ya here. And try to stay out of trouble in future.' He didn't say anything to Merle who only smirked at this.  
'Bye, Bob. Thanks for everythin'.' I told him before we left. I meant for the special treatment he'd given me in secret – like playing board games with me and loaning me books to read. Or snuggling me in tasty snacks when I couldn't bring myself to eat the prison food. Merle didn't have a problem with that – he'd eat anything.  
I felt sick at what we were facing – all those people with their eyes on us, being grilled by the prosecution but I controlled myself. I'd only picked at the grainy porridge and toast they'd given us an hour before.  
This was when I was going to lose my brother and probably be sentenced to juvie while he went to adult jail. I glanced at him in the dock but he just grinned at me.

 

ii.

Daryl

I needn't have worried – Madeline never got to give evidence, so I was spared the shame of everyone there knowing what Dad did to me and no doubt, pitying me. The court was in uproar after the judge declared 'mistrial' due to the loss of evidence, namely the gun and only one witness – an store detective who'd been pretending to be a customer that day turned up, not even Tim, the guy my brother had threatened to kill. I stared at my brother in disbelief. The two detectives glared at Merle while he smirked back at them. Like they knew that he'd been up to something because it did sound unbelievable and I wondered if the person responsible for the evidence had lost their job.  
Of course he had. I was determined to get it out of him what he'd done. Especially to those missing customers and shop workers.  
Then I saw her when she stood up among the throng and was clapping with glee. How could I have missed her? She was wearing long skirts as usual with long sleeves but she had a new purple dress on. She'd dyed her hair chestnut red. Mira looked happy. But I couldn't believe that she'd risked coming to my trial where she might be recognised despite her disguise. But now the trial had been thrown out, nobody could touch us.

She waved at me before the judge gave his closing speech. Basically saying that he believed that we were guilty but we'd been given a second chance and he hoped we would take it. And stay out of trouble in future. I thought he was being unexpectedly more lenient than he should be but then no doubt he'd heard why we'd run away. Everybody else seemed to know.  
We went over to where she was once we'd been declared free and we hugged. Strangely, she didn't seem that happy to see Merle – barely looked at him and only mumbled 'Hi' sideways. She looked up at me in surprise. 'I swear you've grown a foot since I saw you...jail food that good?'  
'Nah...it was disgustin'. I replied. 'But the warden used to sneak me in snacks...pretty sure he wasn't 'sposed to do that.' We walked out of court, holding hands. The lawyer followed us sheepishly.  
'How....' I asked, bewildered.   
'I stayed in the area. I even got a job! Tell you about it over lunch. It s on me. I also took care of the car – payin' with ya money actually.'  
'You look good.' I pecked her lips briefly and Merle looked away and rubbed his hands. 'Yeah, where we gonna celebrate? I ain't got no money...did you say you found the money?' He looked at her sideways briefly.   
She nodded without looking at him in return and I thought it was weird the way they were behaving with each other.  
'Shit!' Merle groaned as once we were throught the courthouse doors, we were assaulted by gabble of excited voices and camera flashes. We instinctively covered our faces with our hands as we tried to get away from that crowd of baying hyenas.  
'Did ya kill ya father because he was sexually abusing your younger brother?' One oily reporter in a cheap suit and messy hair immediately pounced on Merle while our lawyer dragged us away from him. 'No comment.' He said. 'The trial was for shopliftin' mostly (he didn't mention the one count of armed robbery and attempted murder – and I remember thinking that maybe he wasn't so dumb after all) and anyway, the judge says that there is no trial because of lack of evidence. Because my clients are innocent.' I also liked how he twisted the truth to make us look better.  
One young good-looking woman in red lipstick and high heels turned on me, as if our lawyer hadn't spoken. 'Was ya father really rapin' you? Is that why you ran away and robbed stores with your brother?'  
Merle growled and rounded on her but I pushed him away from her.  
'Fuck off, bitch. And 'No' he wasn't and' No', we didn't.' I snarled at her and was gratified when she drew back in alarm.  
Someone else thrust a microphone in Merle's face. 'Is it true that you were really gonna kill that cashier because of his skin colour?'  
Merle took our lawyer's advice and pointedly ignored the reporter even though I could see he was strugging to control his temper.  
'This ya girlfriend? The girl they say robbed the stores with you?'  
Mira ignored the man also.  
The lawyer yanked me away by the arm. 'Don't say anythin'.' He advised me. 'I told them already.'  
Merle even shook his hand as we parted ways but not without saying sarcastically, 'Thanks for nothin'.'  
The man only gave him a hard look as he turned and left us without looking back.  
Once we managed to escape that horde of vultures, we grabbed a taxi. Mira gave the driver instructions. 'I know this great burger bar.'  
We got out and went straight in. My stomach growled hungrily at the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen but mostly I was enjoying the feeling of being free. Really free. With the two people I cared about most in the world.

We downed a couple of beers – savouring the taste after going so long without. Mira was right – the burgers were delicious.   
'Where we gonna sleep?' Merle belched loudly while Mira glared at him in disgust. I was right – something was going on between them, you could cut the atmosphere with a knife. I was determined to get to the bottom of it – didn't want my girlfriend and my big brother squabbling and having bad feelings towards one another. But feeling full and contented after a double cheeseburger and fries, I let it go for the moment.  
'So, Merle, what did ya do to get it declared a mistrial? Ya didn't kill the witnesses, I hope, did ya?' I was only half joking. ' Even Tim wasn't there - thought he'd be dyin' to testify against you.'  
'Yeah, I wasn't gonna kill him anyway, only teach him a lesson. Scare him a bit but I let myself get out of control but it ain't gonna happen again.'  
'So what did you do?' Mira perked up and for the first time since we'd been reunited, looked my brother full in the face.  
Merle glanced around surreptitiously before answering. The place wasn't that full and the other customers were mostly couples focused on each other and their food and drink. 'I know a guy who stores the evidence who owes me a favour. Well, his friend owes me a favour actually but it don't matter. He 'lost' the evidence.'  
'What about the witnesses?'  
'Most of them were happy to accept the money they were offered. From other people who owe me favours but I gotta to pay some of them back somehow. After all we didn't kill or really hurt anybody. And everyone thinking they knew why we ran away and were forced to go on a mini-crime spree helped us gain sympathy. Even though it's as fuckin' embarrassing as hell, everyone knowing what your own father did to your brother.' He looked at me then as if weighing me up. Did he still see me as fragile?  
'Well, from now on, we gonna stay out of trouble. Like the judge said, we've been given a second chance. And I got a job now – sure I can get at least one of you a job at the place where I work. It's a women's shelter – I help out there with the housework. Money's pretty decent and so is the boss and she's looking for a new janitor.'  
I turned to her. 'What – they let men work there?' She nodded excitedly.   
'Yeah, beause I never want to go back home. Too many bad memories. Dad's back there.' I told them as I shivered at image of the bastard's bones in the septic tank even though they had probably dissolved by now. I looked pointedly at my brother who merely shrugged like he didn't care or hadn't thought about where we were going to live.  
'Hey, do you really think they searched our place or were they jus' bluffin'?' I asked him.  
'Dunno. Listen.' He glanced at Mira as if warning her to keep quiet. 'Is stayin' here the best thing? I mean...it looks like we're famous or maybe infamous here, dunno how easy it's gonna be to find work. I mean, will your boss really give one of us – I guess it'll have to be me, when she knows what we did? Even if we've been cleared.  
'That's right, you've been cleared.' She answered. 'She already knows about you -she helped me find you, actually. Of course, she 's got contacts with the local police from running the shelter. Most of them are on our side.'  
'Yeah...but mud sticks. This is a small town – if we were in a big city where murders and robberies happen all the time, they probably wouldn't even notice us.' Merle retorted and I stared at him. Because it looked like he was looking for reasons for us to leave and I got a feeling he didn't want Mira tagging along. Knowing that she had a good job here, he predicted that she'd be reluctant to leave.  
'Jesus!' I slammed my glass down on the red and white checked plastic table cloth while they stared at me like they didn't know me. 'Do ya mind tellin' me what is goin' on between you two!'  
Mira smiled uneasily and Merle tried his best to look innocent but I knew that look. God knows I'd seen him use it on Dad enough times.  
'What ya talkin' about, boy? Things are jus' fine between us.' He said.  
'We're fine. Maybe ya imaginin' things.' She backed him up.  
'Yeah – and maybe I'm not. Will ya cut it out already, the both of you?'   
They nodded and I could see them make an effort to talk to each other. But their conversation sounded forced and they were still being awkward with each other, not meeting each other's eyes, leaving me unconvinced.  
We found a motel after Mira had made a quick phonecall to arrange an interview with her boss Carol and Merle the next day. She handed us the wad of money we'd hidden in the car after we'd got arrested. Luckily, she'd had the key on her and I wondered why the cops hadn't confiscated it but I didn't think about it too much.  
She had her own room back at the shelter but we wanted to be together. That night, we only held tightly onto each other on the bed as we listened to Merle snoring next door after we'd shared more beer and snacks to celebrate. He'd left his TV on. We had ours on quietly, more as background noise more than anything else. We weren't really watching it.

She looked at me then and I could tell she was fighting with herself. 'Actually, there is something. I'm only telling you this because I want to start things right – no secrets between us.'  
I stroked her arm. 'What is it?'  
'It's your brother. It happened after we were drunk and stoned...You'd gone out for some fresh air...'  
'What? Did he hurt you?' I sat up straight, alarmed even though I knew he'd never physically hurt a girl. He could be a real asshole to them and treat them like shit but even he had his moral code. Same as he'd never laid a hand on me when we were growing up.   
Or rather I hoped he'd wouldn't but it was hard to be sure when I'd seen him do the things he'd done lately when I thought I knew him. The way he had sadistically tortured our Dad before killing him and how he'd threatened to shoot Tim to death after calling him a nigger. I wasn't sure if he was telling the truth about meaning to only scare him. Besides, the racism hadn't shocked me – it was typical Merle and came from our father but the other stuff? Like the way how he knew to dispose of our father's body and all these contacts he had with shady people and others who looked after crime evidence on the police force. His long absences from home and the wads of cash he'd come back with and spend some of it on me. What he had done to earn it?  
It seemed that I still didn't really know him after all.   
'No...but he tried to kiss...he kissed me.' She finally admitted, her face immediately going red wth guilt.   
'What!' I yelled in disbelief, shoving her roughly away from meh and getting off the bed.  
'But it didn't go further than that, I swear...and I stopped him practically straight away.' But I was barely listening to her as that familiar red haze descended over my vision. Even though I believed her because they hadn't been alone long enough unless they'd screwed each other when I was asleep. But even Merle wouldn't do that to me, would he?   
'Don't. Please.' She called after me. 'Leave it.'  
Ignoring her, I rushed off the bed and tore our door open. Started banging and yelling on my brother's door. Of course it was locked.  
'Merle, you filthy fuck! Open the fuckin' door!' Other people – some couples and singletons opened their doors and started complaining about the noise at 2am in the goddamn morning before I heard him sigh through the door and the bed springs squeak as he got slowly out of bed.   
Taking his time no doubt. I barely heard what the other guests were saying in my rage, all I wanted was to get my hands on my big brother and kill him. 'I'm gonna fuckin' end you, you fuckin' asshole! How could you!' I felt like weeping because we should be happy now. 'How could ya do it to me?'

 

 

'


	21. Chapter 21

'I'm gonna rip ya apart, even if you are my brother.'  
I stormed into his room, grabbed him by the throat. Almost head to head with him now.  
'Fucker!' I slammed him against the wall, feeling gratified. 'Ya touch my girl, you miserable piece of shit?'  
I drew back my fist while he just looked at me and laughed crazily.   
'What? Think I won't do it?' I slammed my fist into his nose, smashed it in again to his face while it squirted blood.  
'Fight back, asshole!'  
I heard her scream behind me. 'Stay outta this.' I snarled to her but didn't bother looking back.   
'Daryl! Don't!' I ignored her.  
Merle grunted as he took the third hit. 'I'll give ya three.' He panted. 'I deserve it.'  
He suddenly flipped us around so that I was against the wall with his hands around my throat before he gave me a black eye and bloodied my mouth. Then he was choking me as my hands scrabbled for his to let me go.   
Dimly I was aware that she'd jumped on his back, telling him to leave me alone, like I couldn't take care of myself and Merle shook her off. Yet I forced myself not to panic, pulled back a little and sucked him hard in the gut. Kicked his legs from under him so he landed on the ground. Leapt on top of him so that I was straddling him. It felt good even in my fury to catch him off guard and beat him – I knew that he wasn't holding back any more.  
'Ain't a kid no more. You can't push me around no more.' I spat into his face, my rage taking me over. I drew back my fist while he was still groaning from the hard blow to his stomach. 'Bastard!' I yelled but she suddenly grabbed my hand.   
'No. It's my fault.' She said. 'I shouldn't have told you.  
I suddenly came to my senses and the red curtain overshadowing everything in my vision lifted.   
I still wanted to beat my brother into the ground but I wanted him gone more than anything.   
'Stay away from us.' I got up and backed away from him.  
'Daryl...don't...' He stretched a hand out to me. 'I'm sorry – it was jus' a stupid mistake – weren't gonna do anythin' really...'  
'In the morning, we gonna go our separate ways. For good. Don't ever wanna see ya again.'  
'Daryl!' She grabbed my arm. 'Don't – he's ya brother.'  
'Shut up!' I snarled down at her. Couldn't help blaming her. 'I don't have a brother. Come on.'  
He looked up at me then. His eyes dark and unreadable but I knew that he was contemplating life alone – without me – his only family left. 'We were drunk and high. Were only a kiss...I wasn't gonna go any further anyways, she stopped it...'  
'Stop fuckin' lyin'. Like ya could have resisted...'  
I turned to Mira. 'He's a real sleazebag, ya know. Don't give a shit 'bout ya – jus' usin' ya to score points over me. Weren't ya, big brother?'  
'That ain't true....'  
'Never could stand me havin' somethin' for myself, could ya? Used to scare even my friends away...'  
'After what I did for you...' He changed tack, not bothering to deny it. After all, what could he say?  
'Don't bother bringin' Dad up again. Ancient history. It's over.'  
'Come on, let's go to bed.' I pulled her with me to our room, feeling really pissed that she was defending him after what he tried to do. I saw her looking at him and shrugging apologetically as we were on our way out the door.  
'What ya lookin' at him for? Ya thinkin' ya chose the wrong brother, huh? Go be with him if ya feel like that...you two deserve each other.'   
She went red.' N...no...I want you...'  
'Well, come on, then.' I smiled at that despite feeling betrayed by the both of them.   
'See how long ya survive without me.' He mocked.   
'Fuck you. Don't need you – never needed you...' He raised his eye-brows at that – we both knew that was a lie. I'd needed him desperately with Dad. He'd helped me through the nightmares.  
'Come on.' I finally succeeded in getting us out of there.   
She let me tug her into our room.  
She reached up to kiss me. 'I want you, Daryl and I'm so sorry. But it was only a stupid kiss – we both stopped as soon as we realised what we were doin'. Can't ya forgive us?'  
'I can forgive you but not him. 'Sides, he's poison – jus' like our fuckin' Daddy. He jus' had to have the first thing I had for myself. Fuckin' asshole.'  
I'd never been with a girl before but I sta'rted on her neck. I guess I was still angry with her because I wasn't too gentle about it – leaving bright red marks all down her throat but she didn't complain. Arched her neck back and moaned so I guessed I was doing something right. We quickly got out of our clothes and I could see the excitement in her eyes that let me know she wanted it as much as I did. 'You OK?' I asked anyway. 'Ya mind if I ….'  
'Yes! Get on with it.' She pushed my head in between her legs but I stopped her. 'I don't have a …'  
'Don't worry, I have.' She grinned and the took the rubber out of her pocket.  
I looked at her surprise while she shrugged. 'Better to be prepared.'   
I soon had her pulling my hair and screaming. I hope my brother could hear. I chuckled at that image – him lying there and maybe all our neighbours unable to sleep, some jealous. Quite the opposite in fact I'd heard Merle talk about it – he'd given me tips for when I finally 'managed to get myself laid' and I'd heard the other boys at school talking about it. Wasn't completely ignorant.  
He'd joked about something called 'make-up sex' and I guess that's what we were doing.   
Afterwards, we lay relaxed on the bed. 'Can't ya forgive him as well?' She tried to take advantage my mellow mood as we shared a joint.   
'Fuck him. Don't mention him again – he's dead to me.' I said it loudly enough I hoped Merle would hear through the wall.  
…  
Unfortunately we did bump into that piece of shit the next morning – knowing Merle, h probably planned the whole thing. Leaving his room to check out just as we did, although I'd planned to leave as early as possible, knowing he liked to sleep in.  
'Heard ya havin' fun last night. Was ya bein' so loud 'bout it and keepin' me awake to rub my nose in it?'  
I grinned inside because this pissed off Mira, who like me turned bright red. 'Don't flatter yourself. Weren't thinking of you at all.' She retorted.  
He laughed at that.  
'Fuck off, Merle. Jealous none?' I taunted him.  
'Well, guess ya popped ya cherry at last, baby brother. If ya don't count Daddy   
Dearest, of course.'  
Mira gasped in horror, looking between us as I felt myself go pale, unable to say anything clever back to him. Unable to believe that my brother was throwing our father back in my face.  
'You bastard.' She hissed at him.  
I clenched my fists.  
'Don't.' She whispered. 'He isn't worth it. Ya right, we're better off without him. Let's go.'  
'No, please.' He bowed in mock courtesy at her. 'Allow me.' He strode off into the elevator.   
'Have a nice life, baby brother.' He called over his shoulder without looking back at us and despite myself, my heart suddenly felt to heavy for my chest. Because was I was making too much of a big deal over nothing – it was just a stupid kiss after all? But I couldn't move and neither did she as we waited a while, even after we saw the elevator reach ground floor. Both of us wanted to be sure that he'd be checked out and gone when we went down to the desk.  
But she was my first and then what he'd said about Dad brought it all back. How could he say that to me?  
'Come on.' She tugged me. 'The janitor job Carol offered when I spoke to her was for Merle but can't see why you can't do it.'  
I leaned down to kiss her and we held hands as we left the motel. Even so, I couldn't help looking around for him – he'd be spying on us for sure, tracking us.   
But suddenly I felt the pit of my stomach drop because what had I done? What if he wasn't and just got on the next bus out of here to God knows where and I never saw him again? Over a meaningless stoned kiss that never went anywhere and a vicious comment about Dad?  
I had time to reconsider my rash reaction...the way things had got out of control between us. How we'd lashed out at each other both with our fists as well as our words but it had felt to be able to give back as good as I got and stand my own ground like a man. However, my side started pounding all of a sudden– I did my best not to show it because he must have got me there as well but in my rage and adrenalin rush, I guess I hadn't noticed it. Or this morning for that matter for some reason.  
I had to look my best and convince Mira's boss, Carol to give me the job instead. If she asked, I would just say that my brother had had a change of mind – had other plans. I was confident I could get it – had been tinkering with machinery and parts like motorbikes and the engine of our old truck since I couldn't remember – watching and helping my big brother and Dad. Maybe some of the few happy memories I had from my childhood.  
Fuck – what had I done? And he had saved me and Mira wasn't completely innocent either. Wasn't all his fault – because it took two to tango.

…  
Merle checked out, his back straight, walking arrogantly but with his face battered. He knew he looked like he'd been in a bar-fight he'd lost pretty badly and it wouldn't look good for finding work.  
He couldn't believe Daryl's over-reaction at something so small and why did the stupid little goose have to tell him anyway? On the bright side, at least it proved she was honest, he guessed.  
Worse – what he couldn't understand how he could have said that to Daryl – using what the sick fuck did to him against him. The boy had only just got over all of that and it had been a very long and painful process. He sighed because he knew he could have convinced his brother to forgive him for that one stupid indiscretion but after he crossed the line and brought their Daddy into it, Daryl was lost to him, probably forever.   
Daryl he whispered and felt like crying but held back because Dixons didn't cry. Merle hadn't cried since he was five years old during a whipping with the belt that left him scarred for life. He had soon learned you got worse if cried or showed weakness with their old man. He hadn't even shed a tear after he killed him but now, his baby brother had brought him almost to the brink before that trademark Dixon sneer twisted his mouth.   
Fuck you, you dumb little shit. Think you can survive without me? You forget you were waking up every night with nightmares about him not so long ago, crying like a little pussy in my arms? But I didn't hold any of it against you because of what he did. Did ya also forget that it was me who was there for you and I fuckin' killed a man – our own Daddy, none the less– for you and this is how you repay me?  
Merle closed his eyes.   
Let's see how long ya last without ya big brother. Ya don't know shit 'bout how the real world works. They'll eat ya alive and spit ya out without me.   
Even so, he hid behind a corner and tracked them as they left the motel. Holding hands and giggling like a pair of kids – which he guessed they still were. Still teenagers.  
No matter. He knew the name of the place she worked and lived at. She sounded settled there – liked her new boss, this Carol. He could ask around and find it, he knew. Probably Daryl was going to take the janitor's job originally meant for him. The women's shelter but damn if he could get five feet within the place. Strange that they allowed men to work there and he knew he looked dangerous.  
Looked rough, sounded rough. Looked violent but then he could be violent. Hadn't he tortured and stabbed their Daddy to death in the the very place he'd used to hurt his little brother so very badly? A statement as well as revenge.   
Merle hadn't known he had it in him – sure he'd 'encouraged' people to pay their debts amongst other things – how else could he made sure Daryl was fed at least once in a while and at least was running down in decent clothes that fit? Their father had never been good at that stuff even before the drinking and drugs – Mama had always done that – sometimes going without herself to see they were looked after.   
He felt a shiver run up and down his spine – he imagined it was her fingers as he heard her voice in his head.  
'Look after Daryl, please Merle if anythin' happens to me. Make sure he's OK. Promise?' She'd curled her fingers in his as he'd eagerly nodded. Didn't understand why she was asking him – nothing was going to happen to her, right? And he'd been looking after his little brother since his parents had brought him back from the hospital. How proud he was to be a big brother when Daryl would look up at him with those big, trusting blue eyes.  
He shook his head to clear it. He wasn't going to let his baby brother out of his sight. He'd keep his promise to their Mama.

He turned to go. He had to find work – honest work this time. Couldn't afford to land back in jail – it was a miracle that they'd got away with it scott-free.  
He knew he was being given a second chance. Only wished he hadn't screwed things up and that his brother was with him because would he get a second chance with Daryl?


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Daryl forgive Merle? Will Merle really go far away? And will the couple be able to build a new life together?

i.

Merle felt lost without his brother, sure they'd been apart before, especially when he'd been in Juvie and the other times when he'd worked away from home. But things had changed with what they'd gone through with Dad - they'd grown closer, of course they had. Moreover, with their father now gone, the only real blood-kin they had left were each other. And they were in a new place but luckily had just seemed to land on their feet with jobs and finding somewhere to live. He had a good feeling about this place, maybe he did have a bit of that sixth sense of their Mama's as well that the would never admit to believing in, after all. They'd been lucky with the court-case being thrown out, nobody had apparently found their father's remains in the septic tank, if there were any left and Mira had just walked into a job taking Daryl with her.  
Merle heard nothing from Daryl but he still hung around, avoiding direct contact with him but yet still hovering close to him. Checking that he was OK. He even fancied that his brother saw him but deliberately ignored him – of course, he knew he was following him – he was a Dixon after all.  
He saw them out and about sometimes when he watched them where they lived near the shelter that they both worked at, holding hands, giggling about nothing and his heart grew lighter in his chest to see his brother so happy. Acting and looking like a young man in love, putting his past behind him.  
Only a Dixon could do that. Go through the shit he'd been through and put it straight behind him. Move on. Merle wondered whether he still had those nightmares about Dad – he hoped not.  
He was also watching Mira – still checking that she was good for Daryl and he had to admit she seemed to be. At least from what he saw of them.  
Yes, Merle had a good feeling, if only his brother would reach out and make the first move of reconciliation. To himself, Daryl's older brother thought he was making a fuss about nothing – was only a stupid drunk kiss. Wasn't going to go any further, couldn't he see that? It had already been over a month with no word from either of them. What if Daryl never spoke to him again? Didn't need his big brother now he was over their Daddy and had a girlfriend now?  
Merle growled and shoved these disturbing thoughts aside. If it went on for much longer, he knew he would march to their place and bang on their front-door. 

 

i.  
Daryl

We were in a diner down-town where I'd told him to meet me by phone. He stood up to greet me, was going to clap me on the back and hug me until I glared a warning not to at him. I didn't want to go that far with him.  
'I still ain't forgiven ya.'  
My brother smirked and sat down but I didn't miss the flash of disappointment flash in his eyes before he hid it behind a careless grin. The waitress came over and I saw him checking her out appreciatively and I saw her smile as she turned away after we'd ordered our burgers and drinks. I was still They never got offended – the women he eyed-up always seem to be flattered. Damn him! Small, slim, Latino – just his type. I rolled my eyes – typical Merle and despite my still lingering anger at what he'd done, I felt a grin rise to my lips in answer to his.  
'So, how did ya track me down, baby brother?' He leaned back and crossed his one leg over the other casually.  
'That's for me to know and ya to guess.' Actually Carol had told me about the halfway house where he was renting a room and I'd found the reception telephone number in the directory but I wasn't going to tell him that.'  
Ya ain't the only one who can track. Anyway, I knew ya wouldn't go far even though I told ya to stay away. That ya'd be somewhere nearby.' I didn't add that I knew he'd continue to watch over me that he'd never really leave me.  
I told myself that it was because of my news and my worry about it that I had decided to see him again.  
'Hey, hey, little brother, ain't ya the one with all the surprises.' He teased but I didn't allow myself to be drawn in by his charm. 'How's my job that ya stole from me, goin'?'  
'Great! Don't start, Merle. It's ya own fault – can't have ya livin' with us. 'Cos of what ya did...'  
'Fuckin' hell, Darlena! It was jus' one silly, drunken kiss...nothin' happened. Not like we screwed. And it will never...never happen ever again. She's ya girl now and she pushed me away 'cos she loves you, baby brother.'  
'Yeah, well.'  
'So, what's ya news?'  
We took a pause as the girl 'Maria' her name-badge sashayed back over to us with the 'shakes – the place didn't sell beer and I was clearly under-age in any case. She smiled sweetly at my brother as she set down his banana shake and then my strawberry one. 'Bring ya burger 'n' fries over in a minute, boys.'  
'Merle!' I hissed, momentarily distracted. 'You ain't...doin' her, are ya?'  
'That's for me to know and ya to guess.' He countered, using my own words back at me making me growl.  
'So, what's goin' on? Why ya decide to look me up after ignoring my existence for the last three months? Not carin' if I'm dead or alive, workin' or livin' on the streets. Found a job by the way, thanks for askin'.'  
' Good for ya.' I answered sarcastically. 'Anyway – ya could always go home and ya know why - I was angry with ya. Still am, truth be told. First thing I had for myself – ya have to go and try and take away from me, don'cha? Ya a lyin', cheatin' piece of shit, bro.' I raised my voice without realising and the other customers glanced over at us.  
He chuckled. 'Guess I deserve that. But ya really got to get over it. And yaself.'  
'Fuck you.' I hissed, quieter this time.  
'Well, what is it? Ya keepin' me all in suspense, boy. Spit it out!'  
'Mira's pregnant.'  
He laughed and his eyes twinkled in merriment. 'Ya sure?'  
'Well, we got health insurance with our jobs at the shelter...Yeah, we've been to the doc. Confirmed.'  
'Ya keepin' it?'  
'Dunno but she wants to..she's about a month along...don't know the sex yet.'  
'Well, then, congratulations, little brother. Look at you, not even eighteen and the one settling down with a girl and a kid on the way first. Got yaself ya own little family.' He beamed and despite myself wanting to still be angry with him, I felt happy to have my brother back again when he was like this, seeming genuinely happy for me. Wanting to trust him …be part of my family...

We sat there for a while, just smoking, lost in our own thoughts. Maria came bouncing over with our burgers and fries. Deliberately leaning over Merle, giving him an eye-full of her cleavage while I looked away. What the hell did girls see in him that made them start acting crazy?  
Then we stubbed out our cigarettes and started on our food, not speaking until we'd finished eating.  
'Merle...' I broke the silence, looking around nervously. Broaching the subject that crazy as it would sound when it left my lips, was really bothering me. Waking me up in a sweat at night – sometimes Mira too, asking me what was wrong. I didn't want everyone to hear what I was going to say or guess what I was talking about. 'Merle, what if I'm like him? If I do what he did...to us...to me. Especially if it's a girl...Fuck...' I whispered as quietly as I could so that he could still hear me. Felt myself trembling when I hadn't done that for months.  
Merle glared at me then, looking furious as a red flame spread across his face and he banged the table making me flinch and most of the customers turn around and look at us for the second time. When the last thing that I wanted to be was the centre of attention.  
'Merle!' I snarled.  
'Don't talk like that 'bout yaself, don't ya dare! He was evil, ya hear, sick and evil and ya ain't nothin' like him, remember that, my sweet and gentle little brother.'  
'Ain't so gentle. And I do got a temper...what if I hurt him or her?'  
'Ya won't.' He was calmer now, the high colour faded from his face. 'Ya won't. And if ya do, I'll kick ya ass for ya, OK?'  
I nodded because he was telling me he was going to be there for me – for us. Be his or her uncle.  
'Yeah...OK...but ya try any of that shit with Mira and I'll end you. It'll be over between us forever. Ya hear?'  
He shrugged. 'Ya never did give me a chance to explain. I tell ya, she ain't my type. Too young for a start. I was jus' testin' her for ya – seein' if she was good enough for my baby brother.'  
'Yeah right, bro. Good excuse. Ya sick, ya know that?' I punched his arm, while he grinned.  
''Sides, I got my own girl .' He said.  
'That waitress?' I smirked at him.'She's hot.'  
He glanced over at her where she was sorting out a tray of salt and pepper shakers with her back to us, his gaze lingering over her attractively rounded ass. 'Nah, she jus' likes to flirt with me everytime I come in here. Got the hots for me but ain't nothin' goin' on 'tween us. My girl's called Sandra.'  
'Well, maybe we can meet up- Mira can make a new friend. How about ya come over for Sunday dinner? Ya ain't seen our place- got a small house with the job. Where ya workin'?'  
'Down at the mechanic's at Mc Coy's. Ya know it?'  
'Yeah, think so. I can look it up anyway. Money good?'  
'It's alright. But always lookin' for more work...hey, if you could ask your boss Carol if she needs a security guard for her place...what with those women there and maybe crazy ex-husbands and boyfriends sniffing around...'  
'OK, I can put in a word, so ya can play the knight in shinin' armour? That ain't exactly you, Merle. But I'll ask anyway... if ya can fit in with the hours...'  
'Thanks, bro. The job I got is only part-time, that's why I need the extra money.'  
I got up. 'Gotta go, only get an hour for lunch. Ya workin' now?'  
'Not today.' He replied.  
'OK. Come round for dinner on Sunday? Meet ya at the front gate – we live jus' outside the grounds of Carol's place. Bring Sandra if ya like.'  
'I know where ya live.' He grabbed me then and hugged me tight before I could question how he knew that. Of course he did. I felt a bit embarrassed – men didn't do embrace much in public where we were from or down here either, apparently as again, we were the object of attention. All eyes on us over plates of fried chicken and burgers with fries.  
Fuck it, I thought. He's my brother. I hugged him back and it felt good after such a long time without seeing him. I'd been thinking about him, hoping he was OK but not really worried because I knew my big brother was as hard as nails. Could take care of himself. He'd killed our father and not shed a tear, as far as I knew.  
He clapped me on the back and finally released me before we parted our ways until Sunday.


	23. Chapter 23

Merle braced himself before he turned in at the gate of the janitor's little cottage. His girlfriend had declined, gone to the mall with her girlfriends and maybe it was better that way, the first reconciliation meal with his brother after so long. Not knowing what kind of reception he would get. Daryl had set him up with another security guard interview with Carol and he took that as a sign that he was finally forgiven. Somehow, the job had stayed open but he didn't know the details exactly.  
They were going to have Sunday lunch together then he would go and meet Carol at 3 pm.  
Daryl was already waiting on the porch with his arms outstretched across the door-frame protectively, because Merle could see his girlfriend standing behind him. More attuned to body language than most people knew – it'd been a matter of survival growing up with a man like their father, he could tell that Daryl was still wary of him. Reading other people's bodies was also an important survival skill when he'd been in Afghanistan because often people would lie with their mouths but unless they were trained, they couldn't hide the lie with their bodies. Merle sighed because naturally his brother was more protective than ever of his girlfriend now that she was carrying their child.

Instead of greeting him warmly, his brother ducked his head without meeting his eyes and scowled when Merle ruffled his hair. Stayed stubbornly right where he was. Merle didn't hope for a hug.  
'Daryl...' Mira warned behind him.  
'OK...OK!' Daryl stepped back and motioned him in and it didn't skip pass him how she flattened herself as far as she could against he wall in the hallway when he passed her. He only gave her a curious look – was she scared of him? Had Daryl been – back-mouthing him to her ? He couldn't imagine it. Merle could hardly believe how much trouble one stupid kiss had caused – it wasn't like he would have taken it further with a kid and one belonging to his brother, after all.  
Daryl still didn't trust him and it struck him then that he'd only got in contact with him again because he was freaking out now that he was about to have a kid of his own. Worried that he was going to be like their old man – do unspeakable things to the poor brat, like their father's sickness could be passed on through the genes. As if Daryl ever could. He'd always been the sweet one, if he showed you that side that was now, despite the bad-ass exterior he was sporting nowadays, more often than not.  
'Where's ….?' Mira struggled to remember her name, Daryl had told her.  
'Sandra?' Merle helped her out. 'She says thanks for the invitation but she had something to do in town.'  
'Never mind. Maybe next time.'  
'Yeah, if there is a next time.' Daryl growled.  
'Daryl! He's your brother! Can't ya be nice for once?' Mira was aghast.  
His brother ignored her remark but the frostiness lying between them did start to thaw a little as he showed him inside to the living-room. Merle looked around appreciatively at the small cottage. They obviously kept it nice and clean – was she a good house-keeper? Apparently. They ushered him into a chair and he plonked the bottle of red vino he'd brought as an offering unceremoniously onto the dining table. As a peace offering?  
Mira brought a steaming bowl of sausage hotpot while his brother cut the bread. There was even a bowl of tossed green salad.  
But the booze did the trick, his brother visibly relaxed especially when Merle got out his second peace-offering, the bottle of whiskey. She of course, did not partake due to her condition. Especially when Merle started telling them stories about Daryl's childhood – nothing about their father of course and nothing depressing. Only funny shit....the one time they stole the lingerie on the washing line of their high school teacher but who also happened to be a sexy fox in spite of it. Or how they put firecrackers through the letterbox of Mr Dubbs and he'd walked around after with his eyebrows permanently singed off. All because his neglected dog kept their sick mother awake all night with his barking and after the small fire in his home, he'd finally got the hint.  
Merle wondered exactly how much about Dad Daryl had confided in her. He checked her out from the corner of his eye – not showing yet, even he who knew shit about that kind of thing, knew she wouldn't for weeks yet. Still slender but always wearing long sleeves and skirts as usual, difficult to see under those.  
What other secrets was she hiding? He'd sensed she'd had a rough ride, like his brother. Why else had she run away?

Daryl's cheeks were getting flushed now. 'Hey, bro – maybe ya should lay off the drink. Ya gotta meet Carol soon.'  
Merle flashed him a grin, he'd deliberately not drunk too much. 'You got a bathroom I can use, bro, freshen up a little?'

ii.

Merle 

She showed me the way but I could feel my baby brother's eyes burning into my back. I mean, Come on, did he really think we were going to screw in the bathroom?  
She left me to it and it was a nice bathroom, really. Clean too, taps gleaming tiled walls. I was happy that baby brother had apparently landed on his feet, if anyone deserved to with all he'd been through, it was him. Got a girl, home, job with a baby on the way and not even 18 yet. Although he wasn't that much younger than our parents had been.  
Yet, it nagged me. Maybe having a kid so young wasn't such a great idea after all.  
I came out after washing my hands even taking time to use the faggy rose hand-washing gel.  
'So, what hours do ya think she's got for me? Does she pay well? Ya the janitor. How's that goin', by the way?'  
He shrugged. 'OK. Learnin' as I go but you and....and...' He frowned, couldn't finish the sentence.  
'It's OK. You can say his name.' I coaxed him softly.  
'Merle!' She was glaring at me, urging me to shut up. But maybe the small amount of booze I'd consumed – two glasses of wine and a half of the whiskey bottle couldn't stop me running my mouth.  
'Dad.' I finished for him.  
Daryl went bright red and jumped up from the table, backed away from it like I'd said the name of the Devil out loud.  
Ignoring him, I turned to Mira in explanation. 'He wasn't always a monster. He taught us about car engines and shit, when he used to tinker with parts. He was a mechanic.'  
Daryl sat down, breathing hard and I tried to soothe things over. 'Ya can't always think about the bad times, baby brother. It'll drive ya crazy otherwise...'  
He squared up to me as I noticed for the first time that he was almost as tall as me. 6 foot 4. Damn, I thought, he's shot up but wiry with it.  
'Bad times?' He shook his head in disbelief and I knew then that I'd put my foot in it again with my clumsy, stupid mouth. 'Ya callin' the things he did to me fuckin' bad times?' Mira tried to shush him and put her arms around him but he shook her off in his outrage. 'Ya don't know shit!' He yelled at me, eye-balling me and I nearly took a step back he was so damn intimidating. He'd changed when were in jail.  
'Jus' sayin', baby brother...' He cut me off. I'd wanted him to remember the good times with our father – not many but they were there. He hadn't always been evil and who knows, it might help him.  
'Merle.' He said, his voice deliberately calm but uncompromisingly commanding at the same time and I was shocked at this new, adult authority in his tone. 'Don't ya mention his name in this house ever again if you want to be invited back. Especially when the little one comes along. Don't even want him or her to know that they ever had a granddaddy. Ya hear!'  
I shrugged with more casualness than I felt. Wondering when suddenly he'd got all the power. But then I was a guest in their home.  
To change the subject and calm him down, I repeated my question about the job and Mira answered. 'We need another security guard. There's two but they're not keen on doing the night shift because sometimes, they come to find the women and children. Take them back with them even though this place is meant to be a secret.'  
I didn't need to ask who they were. Obviously disgruntled scum-bags, female abusing boyfriends and husbands. I thought I would enjoy the job putting cowards down in their place.  
I grinned at her answer. Thinking it was a job I could get used to. I'd always hated that shit – men who hurt women and kids. Cowards who attacked those who couldn't fight back. Besides, night work suited me fine, I never slept much anyway and it would fit in with my other part-time job as a mechanic.


	24. Chapter 24

i.

Daryl

'No!' I woke up again and screamed, forgetting where I was. Beside me, Mira stirred.  
'What is it, baby?' She sighed sleepily as she felt for me with one hand. Still half-asleep.  
'Fuckin' asshole.' I snarled. 'How can he still be gettin' at me, even though he's dead?' I clenched my fists in frustration.  
'Another dream about your Dad again?' Although there had been a long time with no nightmares – well, none that I could remember, they'd started up again for real this time since I'd found out I was to become a father. I couldn't help but connect the timing - anyone could - I was worried that I wouldn't be a good one. Would be like him. I guess all first time fathers felt like that but with me, it was extreme.  
'Yeah.' I sighed She tried to pull me back under the covers but I resisted, got out of bed instead and started pacing around the room.  
'It'll take time. Feel like talking?'  
I looked over at her and vigorously shook my head. Because I never wanted to talk about him. Not even to my brother.   
Especially not with Merle.   
She gasped suddenly and clutched at her stomach and I was at her side in instant. The look of pain on her face making me worried for a second.   
'The baby? Is he OK?' We'd taken to called it 'he' even though we didn't know for sure – she thought it would bring bad luck.  
'No.' She laughed. 'He's kicking again. Come over and feel.' She motioned me over.   
I put my ear against her belly and laughed while she ran her fingers through my hair. Even Merle couldn't have seen this coming – me reaching fatherhood and not even 18 yet. Well, I reminded myself, not any kids he knows about, that is. Couldn't help a chuckle escape me.  
I just had to know if I could trust him around them, that's all.

ii.

He came by swinging his arms with Sandra, a tall, leggy blond by his side. Not a care in the world.  
'Ya OK?' He frowned at me, no doubt not noticing the black circles under my eyes. I also saw him eyeing Mira's 8-month stomach when he thought I wasn't looking. His mouth twitched and for once I didn't know what he was thinking. A chill slid down my spine.   
'Fine.' I replied brusquely. Didn't tell him that dreams or more like replays of Dad and his knife or of him and how he'd killed him had disturbed my sleep. Knowing him, he probably guessed.   
'Come in.' Mira invited them in. Naturally, they came to us – Merle only had one room and Sandra -well, I didn't know where she lived. She never volunteered the information. I didn't ask – could always sense when somebody didn't want to talk about certain things. Wasn't like I didn't have secrets of my own.  
'That smells good.' Sandra said and smiling appreciatively, she took the apple pie dessert straight to the kitchen where the steaming pot of beef and potato stew was waiting. Merle handed Mira a bottle of wine and I narrowed my eyes when I saw how they avoided their fingers touching – each jerking away as soon as they could. Yet I bit my tongue, it had only been a stupid kiss after all and I believed them both when they told me that was all it was. 7  
'Nice place ya got here, baby brother.'   
I scowled but Mira fell for his charm and beamed. 'We might be able to afford more furniture soon – Daryl's found a second job.'   
He turned to me. 'Ya need more money? Ya got enough? I can give ya some...'  
'I didn't mean to...' She blushed but he either didn't see or he was deliberately ignoring her.  
'We're fine.' I snapped and got up to take my half-full plate to the kitchen. My appetite wasn't what it had been and Mira had been trying to feed me up. She was a good cook despite spending years on the street.   
After dinner it was just me and Merle in the living room while the girls washed the dishes. Merle, on his best behaviour, pretending to be a gentleman, had offered to help but they turned him down but I was still suspicious of his motives. I knew what he was like.  
With no audience, he got straight down to business. 'Ya look like shit, bro. Ya even been sleepin'?'  
'Thanks.' I growled sarcastically and flipped him the bird.  
'Should be the best time of ya life...becomin' a Dad...Of course, ya still a kid yaself...'  
'Shut the fuck up. What do ya know about it?' I lashed out while Sandra gasped. Mira was used to my outbursts towards my brother. Because of course he had hit nail on the head this time. Did he know how terrified I was at the thought of becoming a father, all that responsibility – all that power over something so fragile. What if I hurt him or her and they grew up screwed up and hating me like I had hated my own father? Glad when I died?  
He drew back and I felt a little bad because he seemed a little taken aback.   
'Look.' I whispered, almost in apology, jerking my head behind us where the women were chatting loudly and laughing and I felt glad that they got on – were good friend at least. 'I've been dreamin' 'bout him again.' I hissed. His eyes grew wide, no need to tell him who or what.  
'Daryl. It's jus'...'cos ya gonna be a one yaself...ya so young...should be out partyin', gettin' high, gettin' laid.'  
'Yeah,,,if I was like ya.' I had never told him what the sick bastard had whispered to me.   
'Ya'll never be normal – have a family after this. Ya'll remember me, I was ya first. I am, ain't I, son? 'Cos ya'll always belong to me. Even if by some miracle ya find a girl to have kids with ...who knows what'll damage ya'll do to them?'  
'If I do, I'll never do this to them!' I snarled back but couldn't help wincing and trying to stifle a sissy whimper as he started to enter me, slowly at least but no less disgusting or less of a violation for all that.  
He only laughed and ruffled my hair before he started thrusting inside me and moaning in my ear.   
'I'm nothin' like ya!'   
'Yes ya are. Or ya will be...ya won't be able to stop yaself. I ruined ya, boy. Even when I die, ya'll remember.'  
'No! Get off me! Stop!'   
He cuffed me then, hard. 'Now, ya be a good boy to ya Daddy unless ya want him to go get his knife.'   
That threat always worked and I went quiet, stopped protesting, stopped struggling and pleading with him to stop. I knew it was no idle threat, had always worked on me and Merle.  
Luckily the women were still laughing when I started trembling again at the memories – something else I hadn't done for months. Merle noticed of course.  
'Come here.' He moved closer to me from the other side of the sofa we'd been sitting. 'It's OK.'  
'N...no. Get off me!' I hissed – not wanting the women to hear struggled and pushed him off. Curled over to the side while the damn tremors got more and more violent. I couldn't stop them even though last thing I wanted was the girls coming back and seeing me like this. Mira had seen me like this before but Sandra hadn't. How would Merle explain that his little brother was a basket-case?  
'Ya got to calm down before they come back. Whatever he said to ya...ya know he was a sick fuck, right? Jus' said it to fuck with ya head?' He sighed. 'Look at ya.'  
I couldn't reply. How did he know? I had never told him.  
'If ya were like him, why would ya be so worried that ya gonna be jus' like him? If ya were, ya wouldn't give a shit now, wouldya?'  
I shrugged my shoulders and buried my face into the cushion. Suddenly there was a lull in the sounds coming from the kitchen.  
'I...I can't....'  
I flinched when I felt him first start to stroke my hair soothingly but then my body started to relax.   
'I'm no good....I'm jus' like him....I'll hurt him or her...'  
'Bullshit.' He was still comforting me but now his voice had a hard edge to it, telling me I had better man up and start acting like a Dixon. 'Ya nothin' like that sick fuck...more like Mama. Better man than me in all ways.'   
He was using the same tone that he used to tell me that I was being a pussy and needed to toughen up but he didn't say this. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed this – being close to my brother. Or that his touch could stop me trembling almost instantly.  
'Ya can't afford to dwell on things...it's over now. All ya can do is live ya life and be glad he can't do it no more, I made sure of that. He won't be able to hurt ya kids neither.'  
I heard them come back and sat up in a hurry, Merle scooted back to where he was. Both of us trying to act like we'd been talking about the soccer, staring at the players on he TV screen or some other meaningless crap like that.   
Yes, we'd even managed to buy a TV, on hire purchase, of course but we were paying it back slowly.

iii.

Merle

She flew at me, fists flying at my chest like an alley-cat before I could even get through the door. Then I caught them with one hand easily – they were so damn small and dragged us into the narrow hallway before kicking the front door shut with my foot.  
'What did you say to him, you asshole! We heard ya whisperin'!'  
I'd got the panicked phone-call – of course, she'd called me. She had no-one else who could help. I was his brother after all – if anyone had an idea where'd he be, it would be me.   
I held her hands in one fist and dragged her to me. She screamed and struggled at first but then she slumped against my chest in temporary defeat. He big belly was between us and I was reminded tha it wouldn't be long now and my brother shouldn't miss the birth of his own child. Especially the first one.  
'Sh...sh...I didn't say nothin'!' In fact, he'd freaked out and I thought I had managed to reassure him. 'He was worried about becomin' a dad and I was jus' trying to reassure him...'  
'Liar!' She screamed. 'Ya been tryin' to break us up from the beginnin'...'cos I was never good enough for your precious baby brother! Now our child is goin' to grow up without a father!'  
I shook her impatiently. 'OK, I admit...I wasn't sure at first...he's been through so much shit already and he's not even 18...I had to make sure ya weren't gonna hurt him ...'  
'By kissin' me? Me hurt him? You fuckin' hypocrite!' She glared up at me and I knew she would have hit me if I wasn't stopping her but still I hadn't let her hands go and she hadn't pushed me away.   
There was a pause while she eye-balled me mercilessly. Damn, I thought, she was fierce when she was angry, would grow into a mighty fine woman. A lioness..why the hell was Daryl worried about the baby with a chick like that? She'd defend their kid with her life and more. She was more than good enough for Daryl – his match.  
Yet she still didn't order me to release her or shove me away from her. 'I know what you want.' She hissed up at me. Contempt all written all over her face but also, some other emotion in the depths of her eyes that was hard to read.

Unknown to either of us, someone was watching the small house with greedy eyes. Had been tracking the comings and goings for weeks.


	25. Chapter 25

i.  
Merle

She was looking at me with some look I couldn't fathom before she broke the intense moment between us by suddenly slumping against my chest in apparent defeat. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her while she sobbed. I had thought for one moment that she was going to kiss me.  
'Shit! I can't believe he's doin' this now...I'll find him, I'll find him.' I tried to reassure her.  
She shook her head. 'I ...I can't bring up this kid on my own...maybe I should have got rid of it as soon as I found out... Better off maybe than with two messed-up basket-cases for a Mom and Dad...but he wouldn't let me....'  
I shook her then, more violently than I meant to so that her teeth chattered in her head while she looked at me in shock. But I didn't apologise. I didn't need to know this and of course, if I knew my brother, he wouldn't have let her have an abortion. Had always been soft that way – with kids and animals.  
'Don't ya dare! Don't ya ever talk about him or his kid like that!' I roared.  
'I'm sorry ...Didn't mean it.'  
'Ya better not have!' I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer to me as my anger faded away. I even stroked her hair. 'And I tell ya, when I do find him, I'm gonna fuckin' kill the selfish little shit!' I roared as I shook with rage.  
'No...please, don't hurt him...'   
I frowned at her because did she really think I could or would? But that didn't mean I wasn't as angry as hell at him for this latest stunt of his.  
'Well...'I muttered but managed to calm down. ''Course I'm not...jus' can't understand how can he put ya and the baby through this, is all.'  
'Do ...you think he's OK?' She looked up at me then, red eyes wide and hopeful but with mascara streaked.  
'Yeah...sure. He's around, wouldn't have gone too far. Just freaked out about becomin' a daddy...wouldn't be the first man to do that...only natural at his age...'  
'He's got a early shift tomorrow...what do I tell Carol? What about the police?'  
'Don't tell her the truth...makes him look flakey. 'Sides, cops won't do nothin' yet – too early. 'Sides, if we get him back soon, no harm done. Tell Carol he's got the flu or somethin' that'll do for at least a couple of days.  
She nodded.   
'Right, I'm gonna go. Drive around and see if I can find him.'  
'Thanks. Want me to come with you?'  
'No, you can't do anythin'. Best ya rest up and try not to worry in ya condition. Told ya, I'll find him.'  
I released her and kissed her forehead. 'I said try not to worry - will call ya if I find him, OK.'  
'Even if it's 3 in the morning?'  
'Promise. I've got a shift back here in the afternoon so I'll see ya then.' They'd got me part-time security work there to go with my mechanic's job in town. So far, things had been pretty boring – they'd only been one incident of a man coming to find his wife even after a restraining order was in place and I'd tackled him to the ground. Held him until the cops could get there. Bastard used to burn her with his cigarette lighter – had even held her hand against the gas-ring on the cooker.  
Easy money for easy work. Also, I couldn't deny that I didn't enjoy seeing that these scumbags who liked to hurt women got theirs too. Cowards who preyed on the weak like Dad – they didn't even deserve to be called men.   
She still looked up at me then with a terrified look on her face, forcing me out of my reverie, her lips were trembling. More tears not far off from falling and I wanted more than anything in the world to reach down and kiss them away but I didn't dare. Such a feisty woman but when I saw her looking vulnerable like this and it would only be over Daryl or the baby, her family - she was melting my heart like no other woman ever could.  
Incredibly, she smiled stoically through the tears and punched me playfully on the arm. 'You'd better find him.'  
I took my leave then.

ii.  
…...  
The man watched Merle leave the house with furious disbelief – a tall, blonde, rough looking man. He'd seen them embrace and him kiss her through the gap in the curtains and he'd been in shock, to put it mildly, when he saw her big belly on show. Looked at least 10 years older than her – what the hell was she thinking? He hoped that he was treating her right – he looked like a real brute who wouldn't think it beneath him to hit a woman – even a pregnant one at that. Besides, how could he have been replaced so easily in her heart? Or more than that – why had she run away from him in the first place?  
Why was she living here at this women's shelter? Was she a resident – had she told someone that she was being abused? By who – him? He'd never hurt her – he loved her! But then why had she ran away? And would she even qualify for a place here – weren't they only for wives and girlfriends with kids also in danger? But if she was just a resident, they wouldn't have let her have her own house, would they? These places only gave women on the run from abusive men one room, he was sure. 

He could tell the new boyfriend was a force to be reckoned with the way he strode out of there with fierce purpose and he didn't want to take on the guy right now. He looked dangerous like he killed every day for a living so he would hang back and take his sweet time. That confrontation would come later when he went to bring her back home, safe and sound where she belonged with her parents.   
So she let him knock her up, did she? Silly girl. Now she'd ruined her life for sure. Those terrible scars all over her that the poor girl had inflicted on herself could always be covered up but this?  
He nearly went and knocked on the door -she must miss him - must have wondered about her mother. He debated whether he should call Lara immediately and let her know that he'd finally located their daughter, living with an older man and expecting a baby with him. She'd be mortified but overjoyed at the same time. Unknown to his wife, he'd spent most of his savings on a useless private detective to find her when the they'd been no contact from her since she disappeared nearly 3 years ago. Hadn't had the money to pay for more than 6 months but he'd recently picked up a cold trail again himself from a sighting that seemed genuine for once and ended up here. He'd feared that she was dead – had almost resigned himself to that cold, hard fact, carefully avoiding any thoughts that their love might have been the reason for her running away. Of course, it had put her in a difficult position with her mother but they just couldn't hold themselves back from each other.  
He didn't get it... not her pregnancy or the intimidating redneck she'd run away from him to be with or her whole new life.   
But he was going to find out.  
He shivered in excitement at the thought of a baby. If it was a girl...he could start all over, not repeat the mistakes he'd made with Mira.   
He chuckled when he wondered if it would look like her – a sweet, beautiful mini- Mira. Lara would love to have a child to baby all over again, he just knew it. 

iii.  
Merle

I drove around aimlessly, it was getting dark and I didn't hold any hope of finding my brother tonight not matter what I'd told Mira. I'd been deliberately putting on a casual act that was more optimistic than I felt for her because I knew stress wasn't good for the baby. Still, if I could believe my instincts, Darlena hadn't wandered far and if I knew him, he'd be keeping an eye on his family from nearby. Probably sneaking to watch over her when he thought we wouldn't see him. I didn't let myself dwell on the thought that maybe he hadn't left of his own will – wasn't in his character to run away. He'd never before, not even from Dad and what he was doing to him and things couldn't have got worse than that.  
Why the hell had he freaked out? I'd thought I had put his fears to rest. Maybe he just needed a break and would turn up in time for work. Besides, he knew they had me – I'd help out although I didn't know shit about raising a kid.  
Maybe we should have got the cops involved but Dixons don't play well with cops. I'd rather sort this out between ourselves.

Oh brother, where art thou?


	26. Chapter 26

DSLW 26

i.

He reluctantly withdrew around the corner of the house when he saw them pull away from each other and he knew the big, blonde man was coming out. Once again he debated himself whether he should knock on the door as soon the boyfriend was out of sight but slunk away. He wanted their reunion to be special. Maybe he'd buy candles and rose petals but with her big belly now...and the fact that she'd got older... it wouldn't be the same. Not what their love had been. He'd been shocked at her apparent pregnancy – and how far along she was...Jesus! Yet she's not much more than a child herself– too young to have her own!  
He didn't notice how his thoughts seemed to contradict one another. He never did.  
He licked his lips at the thought of embracing her in his arms again. Of stroking her scars softly and then kissing them better. But first he would beg to know Why? Why had she left him? He'd be understanding of course, her mother had been starting to be jealous for a long time. Must have been tough on the poor girl.  
But he could wait and bide his time. Some things were worth waiting for. First he had to get rid of the boyfriend. He'd deal with him later.  
He started – the shock of seeing his precious Mira – swollen in pregnancy and in the arms of that brute had driven the boy clear out of his mind. How could he have forgotten him? He was still unconscious, would soon wake up and had to be there. Then he would get out of him who he was and what he was doing coming out of her house. Who were these people visiting his daughter? They had not right – not without asking him first! He checked all her friends – especially the male ones who could be a threat.  
He drove back to the abandoned warehouse near his motel but not too close. 50 mins drive, give or take. He rattled the key to the chain he'd put across its doors and got his torch out. He did all this of course after he'd carefully surveyed the area. The lot had long since been abandoned – no guards or no security cameras or guard dogs to worry about. Even the fence had holes in it – made by wild animals or kids who came here to booze or smoke or screw or whatever kids these days did in their free-time but the gate was still intact – with the padlock across it.  
Barry guessed even the delinquent kids had abandoned this place for richer pickings. He was sure he wouldn't be disturbed here – by no-one.

The boy was wide awake, the chloroform had worn off. As he scrambled back away from the intruder, Barry saw a flash of fear in his eyes. However, he was quick to conceal it before it was replaced by hostility in those icy blue eyes and he took a step back despite himself.   
'Who the fuck of ya? Let me the fuck go!' Daryl had been awake for hours – had yelled and screamed for help until his voice went hoarse, he'd banged on the wall to no avail. Then he'd wasted even more time struggling against the strong, thick ropes binding his hands to the old disused pipe running along the rough concrete wall until he started grinding them against it. He was lucky they weren't cuffs. It was a long, tedious process and his hands and wrists were chafed and bleeding – stinging like little bitches and he just had to pray the bastard wouldn't check on the ropes. If he was an amateur – first time he'd done this shit - he might not.  
Barry strode over and shone the flashlight direct in his eyes making him blink. He started to back away from him as far as he could, chest heaving in and out rapidly with panicky little breaths making him feel the curious impulse to comfort him. Barry had no idea where this came from.  
'Sh...sh...'   
'Well, ya fat fuck. The fuck ya want?' The fierce young man lashed out first. Naturally.  
Barry laughed instead of getting indignant. Weren't the first time someone had called him that, after all. Mid-forties, he was the one who'd managed to bag a beautiful teenage girlfriend, after all.   
Until she ran away, he's mind whispered. When it had first happened, he had tried to convince himself that something had happened to her and she was dead – or she'd been kidnapped. Anything was better than considering the possibility that she had betrayed their love.   
'Well, I think the question is...'Who are you and what were you doin' in my daughter's house?'  
Daryl opened his mouth to reply but thought better of it, suddenly realising who his captor must be since he knew that Mira's biological father was dead. The man was a sicko and he as hell wasn't going to volunteer any information. He thought back to the couple of hours since he'd woken up.  
'Ain't tellin' ya nothin', ya sick fuck. But I know who you are. And what ya did.'  
'I'm Mira's stepfather – well more like her father actually. Might as well be, brought her up. You with her. Why? Ya friends with her?'  
His prisoner felt his heart stop in his chest in panic because had he touched her? Hurt her again – maybe the baby...the time she was due was so near...something happening like that could make it come early. He shuddered.  
'Yeah.' Daryl decided to play it safe, not say anything more, keeping his voice calm with great difficulty. He was surprised the bastard didn't guess the truth. 'Which is why when I get out of here, I'm goin' to fuckin' kill ya. Ya better not have touched her!' He snarled and he was so intimidating that Barry found himself taking a couple of steps back from him, even though he was the one tied to the wall before he remembered himself.   
'Funny...has she been here all along? No, I haven't spoken to her yet...nothin' to stop me goin' to visit though...See, she ran away three years ago...her mother is very distraught...'  
'She ran away because of what you were doin' to her! You raped her, you sick fuck!' His voice rose in rage, after all he knew what that was like. 'Ya go near her and I'll fuckin' cut ya balls off!'  
The image that was burned forever into his memory of what Merle had done to their father reared its ugly head in his mind then. Dad's bleeding crotch and battered face still haunted his dreams every now and then and with a shock, he realised that he sounded just like his brother.   
Now, he thought to himself, I finally understood the impulse of pure rage –what had made him do it.  
'Such a bad temper. Ya should do somethin' 'bout that.' Barry tutted and shook his head patronisingly, making Daryl want to lunge at him and make him hurt even more than he'd ever made her hurt. He was so full of rage he was speechless.  
'Ya know what ya did!' He managed to spit out finally.  
'Silly boy. Of course I didn't. You've seen her arms, right? Seen what the poor girl does for attention. Lies about me too. Mentally unstable...'  
'Fuck you.' Daryl slumped back against the drain in apparent defeat but actually his aim was to hide his bleeding hands. 'You're the one that's fucked up if ya believe that.'  
Barry grinned an ugly grin full of uneven teeth but ignored this outburst. 'And another thing...there was another man...a real rough tall, blond mean-looking redneck...canoodling with and kissin' my little girl... Filthy paws all over her...Dunno how I stopped myself rushing in there and kicking the door down. Probably the same asshole who knocked my poor baby up.' His eyes narrowed when he saw the prisoner go pale and his lips begin to tremble. Unless he was mistaken, he looked like he was about to cry! 'Ya know him?'  
The boy's damp eyes grew wide in horror...'Merle...' He breathed. 'No!...'   
'Ha...ya do know him, don't ya, Sonny?' Barry chided slyly.  
'Leave my brother outta this, bastard!' He suddenly rounded on him, snarling but he looked downcast.  
'Hmm....so he's your brother is he? Or half-brother? 'Cos ya don't look alike, do ya? Looks a lot older than you. Hmm. I'll think'll use this, gotta get him away from Mira so I can take her and the baby home. To me and her mother where she belongs.'  
'Ya leave 'em both alone, sicko! And let me go!' Daryl clenched his fists behind him and cursed himself inwardly. He hadn't meant to give anything anyway, especially not put his brother in danger. It's just what the asshole had told him...  
'Come on.' Barry reached down for the bottle of mineral water he'd brought with him. 'Come on, sonny,' He crooned at him, 'Drink up then it's time to go to sleep. Don't want ya dyin' of dehydration on me before ya brother gets here.'  
'Fuck you!' The boy resisted at first – Barry thought it was strange that he seemed to be over-reacting, panicking when he grabbed him and fed him the water from the bottle. He spluttered but soon started drinking gratefully. Shook his head when only half of it was gone.   
'Don't want no more? No? ...OK.'  
Daryl shook his head but glared at him all the same. Giving his abductor the chills even in his silence.  
The sooner this is over and the brothers were dealt with, the better, Barry thought to himself, he couldn't stand the way the boy was looking at him like if he had his hands free, he'd choke him with his bare hands. Probably could – easily. He noticed that he wasn't as small as he looked tied up – yes he had fine bones – prominent ones on his cheeks but he was well-built and strong. And tall.  
And he had youth on his side.   
'What about the bucket?'   
'No.' He did want to go – badly but he couldn't bear the thought of him touching him.  
'Don't worry, ya'll be reunited with ya big brother soon. I'm jus' goin' out to see how Mira's doin' – to let her mother know of course, ya understand!'  
'Ya leave her alone! I said don't ya fuckin' touch her!' He yelled furiously and tried to lunge at him – kick him with his feet. Of course, he couldn't stop him, tethered to the wall like he was. Barry suddenly realised that he still didn't know the boy's name. Didn't matter, he knew his brother's – good enough. He chuckled. He was enjoying this because had this boy also slept with his precious Mira? Would make more sense -more her age than his brother. And he knew she was a dirty little slut – all girls her age were until he'd tamed her. Taught her what it was like to belong to one man and have self-respect.  
'That's enough excitement for the day. It's time you went back to sleep.' His voice was soft, paternal  
but he didn't reach for the chloroform – didn't have any on him but drew back his fist to knock him out. The prisoner tried to dodge the blow even got in a hard kick or two but to no avail. He thought he'd hit him hard enough but he had to hit again before he slumped back. The boy was strong. Black bruise spreading along his temple to his cheek.

ii.

Daryl

I woke up with the side of my head throbbing, badly needing the bathroom, thinking I'd been guzzling beer all afternoon in front of the game on our TV like I sometimes did with Merle at the weekends. When we were halfway drunk out of our skulls, even now - he'd hold me and stroke my hair on the sofa or wherever we were and it felt so good I didn't want to get up even to take a piss. Making me forgive him. Making me forget everything. Despite the unbearable feeling of pressure on my bladder. His too but he could always drink more and hold his water in longer than I could.   
I couldn't remember where I was at first. I should be hungry – God knows when I'd eaten last – stuck in the dark with the periods when I was unconscious, I'd lost track of time. But I wasn't. I put it down to the crazy situation we were in.  
Something was missing – something was wrong. There was no Merle - and I looked down to find my boxers and jeans had been taken off.  
Fuck. Maybe the bastard was even sicker than I imagined...because why had he removed my underwear while I was passed out?   
Had he messed with me? Fuck!  
I anxiously checked myself all over – of course, I couldn't use my hands – everything seemed OK. No damage done, as they say.  
Then I saw the bucket placed considerately within my reach, couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief as the warm, steaming liquid streamed from me. Of course, if things had come to it, I supposed I would have had to piss myself. Despite the stink – it would have eventually dried. Better than having a ruptured bladder.  
Then like a nightmare, it hit me. Mira would come in sometimes if she was at home and just watch me and Merle together on the sofa. Me with my head in his lap and his arm around me, more often than not. I always wondered what she was thinking – but she knew what he was like with me. More importantly, she knew why. Even now her stepfather could be round my place – threatening her – hurting her because I was stupid enough to get caught. I prayed that Merle was with her – I knew he'd protect her - even if they were together - Fuck – the baby!  
And the only person to stand in his way was my asshole brother – and I was trapped here – powerless. I let out a scream of rage of frustration – who knows, maybe someone would hear. I was yelling and banging on the wall for what seemed hours the last time I woke up before I started doing something more constructive. Without any real hope, I tried doing this again – sensing he wasn't around, not letting myself dwell on where he probably was. Sick fuck was deluded and they were the worst.   
No answer and I could even sense the emptiness and desolation around me wherever I was.   
There was no-one here.  
It was weird how you could hear silence sometimes.  
So I started wearing away at my binds – I'd realised pretty quickly that the fucker had got me somewhere isolated – probably a disused warehouse – that's what it looked like. Where the hell where we? I had no idea. But I remember that he'd been surprised that she was living here – he couldn't have taken me anywhere too far. After all, he was intending to go and see her...I shuddered. Prayed she'd look through the keyhole and not answer or pretend not to be in.   
Best of all – she wouldn't be in.   
I wondered what the villain's masterplan was but didn't have to think about it too long. It was pretty obvious. I remembered that the bastard told me that he'd seen my brother with my girl...I considered the possibility that he was fucking with me or he'd misunderstood the situation. However, taking into account the kiss – that sounded about right to me. I sniffed and to my horror, felt the hot tears of rage start to prick my eyes but managed to hold them back. Didn't stop working on my ropes though even as I stewed on all of this. Because I wasn't 5 minutes out of the picture and they were all over each other, apparently unable to control themselves. Never mind that she was 9 months pregnant...that got me thinking. The baby – was the baby OK? I prayed that the asshole wouldn't go after her today... Stress for the mothers was never good for babies – that's if she was even worried about me. Maybe he told her I'd just freaked out about becoming a daddy and walked out of the door....and he'd take my place.  
Bastard – he always knew how to take advantage of a situation.  
I threw off these thoughts that were in danger of rapidly spiralling into self-pity and got a grip on myself. I was a Dixon. I'd been through worse – I'd find a way out of this mess.   
Merle, if he doesn't kill ya first, I will, ya fuckin' bastard. For tryin' to steal my girl and my kid along with her, no doubt.   
I was a Dixon. Nobody could kill a Dixon except another Dixon. That's what Merle always said and I had to hope he was right as I started to scrape at my bonds. I laughed, blinking back my tears because the stupid asshole hadn't thought of using cuffs – far safer when you tie someone up. In any case, you should always check the ropes when you tie someone up.


	27. Chapter 27

i.

The next day

Mira

I'd nearly worn myself out with worry, had picked up and put down the phone about a hundred times to call the police but Merle had ordered me not to. At least not for another 24 hours. I glanced at the empty couch and shivered because while Daryl's brother slept there, I'd felt safe. But now he'd had to to his other job as a car mechanic in town but he said he was going to skip that shift to look for Daryl. I told him not to risk losing his job but he only smirked. After he left, the cottage felt strangely empty although at times all I craved was solitude but I would have given anything then to have my boyfriend back and be fighting with him over nothing. Like whether we could afford to buy the steak I was craving when I'd never been a big meat eater before I got pregnant. Daryl would usually relent and we'd dissolved into laughter because I insisted on eating it with ice-cream.  
His brother had tried to reassure me that Daryl had simply freaked out about becoming a father and taken a break from us but I didn't buy it because he would have rung me if he could. To let me know where he was and if he was OK- I knew that he would never have run the risk of stressing me out and endangering our baby. It just wasn't the boy I knew.  
The boy I'd fallen in love with. OK – we hadn't planned to become parents so young but sometimes shit happens. Maybe we saw the baby as a way to undo all our parents' mistakes – rewrite the past if you will.  
A new start. Redemption.  
I furiously wiped away the tears because I knew he was in trouble. Just knew it...and I hoped and prayed that Merle would somehow find him from wherever he was and bring him back. Or he would simply walk back through the door with a sheepish, apologetic smile on his face for putting me through this with a bunch of roses in his hand and a a box of my favourite take-away pizza.  
I had visions then of tearing the flowers out of his hand and slapping his face hard before kissing him hungrily. Maybe even later we could make up in bed although he was always worried about going the whole way with the baby and it was really uncomfortable and it was too late. But he would have made it up to me in another way. He was good at that.  
Nothing to do but make the house look nice. Carol had me still on light office duties – dealing with the residents' problems and complaints. I'd also become a kind of honoury counsellor without a qualification but she said I was good at listening to other people. Besides, the work later offered me some relief – it would make me forget about Daryl for a few hours.  
I had to keep busy I told myself as I began to vacuum the living room carpet for the fifth time that day and it was a wonder that it wasn't threadbare already.  
….  
There was a knock at the door and I froze. Expecting the cops to come to tell me that they'd found Daryl's body or some other unwelcome voice but then Carol's voice rang out cheerfully.  
'Mira, honey, are you in?'  
I sighed because the last person I wanted to see was my boss although I knew she meant well. No doubt come by to check up on me and Daryl.  
I stopped what I was doing and plastered what I hope was a convincing smile on my face. She stood on the doorstep and I ushered her in.  
'How's Daryl''s flu?' Was her first question after I'd thanked her for the good will basket she'd brought with her and had placed it on the kitchen counter.  
'He's sleeping.' I answered and embellished my story with 'He had a high fever last night but thank God it's broken.' Damn, I hated lying to her after all she'd done for me and Daryl, virtually taking me off the street and giving me a job without knowing the first thing about me. Believing my story. Giving him a job as well.  
'Can I see him?' She picked up the basket full of grapes and oranges, among other fruit to go to our bedroom.  
'Uh...no...you see, he's had a rough night, didn't barely get any sleep but he just managed to doze off just now.'  
She looked disappointed but smiled understandingly as she put back her gift where I'd put it.  
'And you, sweetheart? How are you doing? How's the baby – still kicking?'  
I grinned weakly and nodded my head.  
'And you look a little worn-out, did you have to stay up with him all night?''  
I shook my head. No, I didn't sleep one wink but not for the reason she thought.  
If she only knew. I'd been worried sick – didn't know whether he was dead or alive. Would have gone searching for him myself but his brother stopped me. And Merle was right.  
'Yeah....but I think the worst has passed.' I added.  
'Can you still come to work later?'  
I shrugged. 'Sure.' I smiled wanly.  
She stayed and twittered for another half an hour or so and it wasn't that I didn't like her or usually enjoy her company but I was on edge, waiting or a phone-call from Daryl, Merle or the cops, telling me they had found him and the strain of pretending everything was fine and listening to her cheerful chatter was almost too much to bear. She must have noticed something off with me because she took her leave after a short while, telling me to let her know if I didn't feel up to working later that afternoon. She was a really decent boss and I cursed my absent boyfriend again for forcing me to deceive her. But maybe it wasn't his fault – something had happened to him -something he had no control over. I shuddered at that disturbing thought although it seemed more likely because no way would he just leave and abandon me and his baby.  
I sank down on the sofa and just stared at the wall above the TV. Thinking that maybe I should go and look for Daryl myself ...just because I was 8 and a half months pregnant didn't mean that I couldn't do anything. As if to disagree, the baby kicked and I bent over.  
I rubbed my belly-button. 'Settle down in there, will ya? Mommy's worried sick 'cos she doesn't know where Daddy is.' I often spoke to her – I thought of her as her (even though we'd passed up the chance to know the sex). Somehow I knew it was a girl.  
The bell rang again and I repressed a sigh of annoyance. It was probably Carol coming back to tell me something about a resident that she forgot to mention during our chat and without looking through the spyhole or fixing the chain like Merle had instructed me to before he left, I opened it without thinking. Stupidly allowing the visitor to push his way through and grip me tightly by the top of my arms.  
I started to scream but before I could, he let go of one of them to clamp his hand over my mouth. Pushing me forcefully into the living room onto the sofa.

ii.  
Barry

She lay underneath me, flushed looking so beautiful except for that distasteful bump. I straddled her on the sofa and shook her gently, given her condition. 'Now, now. Don't scream and I'll let ya go. I'll even get off ya.'  
She nodded but I could see the terror in her eyes and reluctant as I was - it was one of the hardest things to do it, I released her and stepped away from the couch.  
I shook my head and tutted at her. 'Miranda, honey, what have ya done to yaself? How far along are you?'' I looked pointedly at her belly even as she had both arms around it as if protecting her unborn child in the womb. From me!  
'Aren't ya pleased to see ya Dad? We missed you, didn't you miss us?...I won't even tell ya Mom where you are – not if you don't want me to.' I babbled nervously when she didn't answer, only stared at me like she'd seen a ghost.  
I guess she had. A ghost from the past. She should be feeling pretty guilty for running away.  
She backed away against the sofa, still clutching her swollen stomach protectively. Even as she unconsciously rubbed the scars through her long black sleeves that I knew were there on her forearms.  
Glaring at me with fear and disbelief.  
'You ain't my Dad! Ya nothin' to me but a filthy pervert who married my mother!' She stubbornly ignored my concerned question and lashed out at me.  
Hurt and shocked at her vicious and completely false accusation, I rapidly closed the distance between us then and slapped her face! Hard enough to split her lip. I simply couldn't help it - not when I'd been building up the anticipating of a happy reunion in my mind – imagining that she would just fall gratefully into my arms after so long apart. Didn't mean that I wasn't horrified at what I'd just done though, especially when she was carrying a child.  
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' I went over to her to crouch down and lay a comforting hand on her knee but she jerked away like my fingers burnt her as the blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and she hunched over. I'd split her lip and even bleeding and heavily pregnant, she was still my beautiful little girl. She looked down at the floor frantically as she wiped it away.  
'Why did you run away from your Mom and me? Almost three years and not a word, not one phone-call. Do you know what that did to her? She thinks ya dead!' My voice rose despite my attempts to control it.  
'Why did you think? She chucked me out – didn't believe that you were coming into my room at night and you...you...' She turned away, blood-flecked lips trembling. 'Ya know what ya did!'  
'I only loved you. That's all I did.' I retorted.  
'Get out. And don't ever come back.' She snarled. 'Otherwise I'll call the cops...tell them why I ran away..What you are!'  
I chuckled as I reached sideways and wrapped the telephone cord around my arm and picked it up. 'And pray, how are you going to do that when I've got it?'  
'I mean it. She glanced anxiously towards the window. 'My boyfriend'll be back anytime soon – he's due to finish work round about now and he'll fucking kill you.'  
'Who, the big blond guy – Merle? He the baby's father, huh?' I wrapped the cord so tightly around my hand that my knuckles went white. 'Ya chose that big brute over me?'  
She went white. 'How did you know...?'  
'Ya tell him I got his baby brother ...if he wants him, get him to call me on this number.' I got out the piece of paper where I'd already written the reception number of my motel and tossed it at her. But it missed the couch and fluttered gently to the floor instead. She didn't even look at it or pick it up but kept staring at me.  
'Tell him to meet me man to man. No cops, no weapons. No surprises. OK?'  
Her lips trembled and she started furiously rubbing the scars on her arms again. 'Daryl!' She whispered and clutched her stomach as if at a sudden pain. 'Ya leave him alone!' She snarled at me and something about her reaction made me re-think my earlier assumption about who the father was but I needed more proof from her. Shortly afterwards, I got it.  
'What makes you think we won't go to the police?' Her mouth twisted as she looked up at me, challenging me!  
'Because redneck trash like him don't trust cops. I bet he was involved in the latest spree of shoplifting around here – did he force you to act as decoy? Besides, if ya do that, I'll kill Daryl.' I added coldly, letting her know I could do it easily without a shred of remorse. Especially if he was the one who had knocked her up.  
'You fuckin' bastard! What did you do to him? Where is he?' She screamed and when she got up clumsily from the sofa, I thought she was going to attack me but she fell back, face contorted in pain and clutching her belly. '  
Despite myself, I felt bad ...what if she miscarried? But no, she was too far along for that. Or if all this brought on the birth?  
So I tried to calm her. Distract her. 'Are you OK?' Something wrong with the baby?'  
'What do you care?' She hissed at me but at least her features had relaxed a little. Then she showed me who Daryl was to her by what she did next and I knew!  
With an effort, she forced herself to look at me, probably sensing me softening. 'Where is he? 'Please, Daddy, just take me to him. Please, please just don't hurt him.' She wheedled, like she used to when she wanted something from me when she was little.  
'I won't - not if his big brother plays nice. After all, your boyfriend – the sick pervert who did this to you – (I pointed to her pregnant belly) is the man I really want.' I was testing her, testing my theory.  
Her face fell in panic and terror for the boy. 'Why...what...what are you going to do to Daryl?'  
I smiled at her gently as I gave her the truth. 'I don't know.' Truth was, I hadn't planned that far ahead. Maybe just scare them into staying away from her or discourage them from tracking us down once I had us out of here and back home where she belonged.  
'Daddy.' She looked up at me then with that knowing, seductive smile on her face that turned her into an adult when she was a mere child. Calling me again by that childish name that she knew just turned me on.'If you just take me to him and let him go, I'll make it worth your while.' Talking softly just like the little whore I knew now she really was but it didn't escape me how wet her eyes seemed or how she was trembling. Even though she tried to hide these signs but I knew her too well.  
I moved closer to the sofa. Knelt down in front of her and finally did what I'd been longing to. I stroked her cheek and she smiled.  
'If I take you to him and let him go, what do I get?' I asked.  
She paused and I didn't miss the split-second frantic look of terror and disgust when she realised what I was getting at that flashed in her eyes and it made me mad. As if I'd want her in her condition! So, I decided to punish her for her deceit.  
'Tell me, Daryl's the father, not Merle, isn't he? Did he force himself on ya? Must have done...My poor baby...' I brushed her hair off her face while she struggled to keep on smiling at me and not to cringe back. Her unwillingness to have me touch her which she was desperately trying to hide, also fuelled my rage.  
'No!' But I saw the tell-tale blink, she was lying! I already had the bastard responsible for her condition! But if Daryl was her boyfriend, why didn't she correct me? Besides, her and Merle had looked pretty cosy when I last saw them together. No doubt this piece of white trash Merle wasn't beneath doing the dirty on his little brother with his pregnant girlfriend.  
'You little whore! You're fucked both of them, ain't ya?' I grabbed her hair and twisting it painfully in my hands and dragged her off roughly off the sofa down onto the floor. I liked seeing her on all fours like that anyway.  
'Ouch!' She screamed in shock. 'Barry, don't! You're hurting me!'  
'Stop lyin'! Who's the baby's father?'  
She was sobbing now in defeat. 'Please, Dad. Let me go! I'm pregnant...'  
I was relentless, showing no mercy until I got the truth. 'Then tell me!'  
'Ya right, ya right.' She looked up at me, tilting her chin up without a shred of shame while I shook her from side to side, not letting go of her hair. 'I slept with both of them when I was drunk...I don't know.'  
Blood was leaking slowly from her sleeves from where she'd rubbed her forearms so hard.  
'You slept with both brothers?' My voice rose in disgusted incredulity and I grabbed my hand that was itching to slap her treacherous face again with the other to stop myself.  
'Dirty little slut. Cheating on me!' I roared. 'Who else did you sleep with while you were gone?' I released her but shook my head in bitter disappointment. 'Ya always were a whore and now ya just proved it. Ya think people are going to believe ya lies about me? They'll jus' take one look at ya and know what ya are. You always tempted me! Weren't any of it my fault!'  
She scrabbled as far away from me as she could, got up shakily and tried to run out through the open door, cradling her belly with one hand but she was heavy and slow and I was on her in a second.  
'Don't try that again. Ya'll know ya won't get far.'  
'Fuck you.' She sniffed, managing to stop crying and that look of old defiance and scorn was back on her face. The one that never failed to make me hard.  
'OK.' I mused, deciding not to rise to her bait. 'I don't really care which one thinks he's ya boyfriend or who the father is because ya know ya'll always be mine.' I lifted to her feet and pinned her against the wall as she looked back at me in terror, breathing hard and once again, I worried about the baby. After all, the child was innocent in all of this...and I was determined to have it and Mira.  
'If ya don't want me to kill him, ya gonna have to make me happy.' I grinned down at her and licked my lips. 'You know what ya have to do.'  
She bowed her head and though she was trying to hide them, I could see the tears leaking from her eyes as she nodded. She knew from a very young age what I meant when I said this to her.  
'Jus' don't hurt him, OK?' She whispered as she got painfully down onto her knees and I grabbed her hair. Just to hold her steady. I closed my eyes. 'Now be a good girl for Daddy.' I hissed as I felt her undo my zip and take me out. Teased me a few times expertly with her tongue flicking it all over me until I was moaning. 'Do it!' I gasped impatiently and she hesitantly took me in.  
'You've got better, Mira. You been practisin' with those boys, huh? Or on the street when you needed the dough, huh?'  
She didn't react, kept sucking on me and I knew she was doing tricks to make me come faster. So I yanked her hair.  
'Slow the fuck down. I know what ya doin'.'  
She paused to look up at me with big, doe-like innocent eyes. 'I'm not doing anything.' She lied.  
'Get on with it.' I ordered and she closed her mouth around my stiffness again, drawing it out longer this time like she knew I liked.  
When I was about to come, I warned her and she spat me out in the waste paper basket, wiping her mouth with a tissue.  
'Are you going to take me there now? I did what you wanted.'  
I grinned satisfied at her.  
'Can I go to the bathroom?'  
'No. Who knows what tricks you might get up to in there? Try and escape through the window, maybe?'  
She looked at me like I was an idiot and sneered. 'How could when I'm as big as a house?'  
'No! And if ya try...' I left the the threat unspoken – more effective that way.  
'I really, really need to go. Please, Barry.'  
'OK, OK.' I shrugged. 'But I'm coming with you.'  
I ignored her shudder and made do with hovering outside, listening to her pee. Being a gentleman, I didn't look – I hoped she appreciated that.  
So she got up and grabbed a glass of water from the tap and gulped it down and I knew she was dying to wash me out of her mouth but didn't dare insult me. Not when I had one of her boyfriends in my clutches.  
I pretended to think about it and she looked visibly relieved when I zipped myself up.  
'Hmmm.' I apparently considered her request.  
'Don't mess with me, Barry! I did what you wanted. Now you've got to take me to him.'  
'First things first. I'm starving after that - make me a sandwich or something.'  
I saw her narrow her eyes and look towards the phone but I was in the way.  
'Don't think even think about calling the cops.'  
Her shoulders slumped. 'Wasn't thinking anything.' She said as she turned her back to me and started rustling up food in the kitchen.  
After about 10 minutes, she came out with a cheese sandwich and a root beer.  
'Thanks. You not eatin;?'  
'No.'  
'You should you know – eatin' for two 'n' all.'  
'I'm worried about Daryl.' She snapped. 'You're going to take me to him, right?'  
I finished eating the sandwich and swigged back the last of the root beer as I was determined to  
'Yeah?' I started to unzip. 'Maybe I need some more persuasion.'' I was going to punish her for running away and her treachery to our love, pregnant or not.  
'Please, Barry don't...' She started to tremble and plead with me to stop but I didn't listen. Put out warding off hands – she hadn't even had time to make a run for it in her shock.  
'I've been waiting so long for us to make love again...Why did you run away from me?' I grabbed her by the arm and shoved her, stomach down onto the sofa. Pulled up those ugly long skirts she always wore. Despite myself, I gasped at the new scars that I didn't recall criss-crossing the whole of the backs of her thighs.  
'Jesus! What did you do to yaself, Mira?'  
She hadn't even had time to make a run for it in her shock and naturally, didn't reply.  
'No!' She sobbed. 'You can't. It might hurt the baby! The doctor said...'  
I kissed the back of her neck to calm down but it didn't work. 'Come on, for old time's sake. I've missed you so much.'  
'NO!' She screamed and worried about someone hearing, I had to clamp my hand around her mouth. 'I said NO!' She tried to yell but her voice was thankfully muffled.  
'I'll be gentle, promise.' I coaxed. 'Nice and easy. Won't hurt him or her.'  
She shook her head vigorously while I pressed myself against her. My underwear and pants round my ankles – I hadn't even taken time to take them off properly. Making her think I was going to take her from behind – the only possible position really with her big belly in front.  
She was really terrified now.  
'OK...! That's it – nice and easy.' I repeated, trying to soothe her and make her relaxed.  
Needless to say, it didn't work.

iii.

After he was done and he'd rolled off her, she stayed where she, face-down on the sofa. Not even bothering to look up as he left when she'd been planning to try and persuade him to take her to Daryl. Or at least look out of the window and see the direction his car went to tell Merle later. She simply couldn't think about them or anything at all.  
She didn't have the energy – the pain and terror of the last few hours had sapped her of all her energy.

She lay there, frozen, eyes wide open and the only movement was her eyes blinking every second or so. Eventually she came to herself and pulled her skirts down. Got into the shower and scrubbed every bare part of her skin she could reach – tripling her efforts on the parts of her body he had touched, scrubbing them red raw. Towelled herself down and got into her nightdress, taking care to put on underwear when she hadn't thought much about it before.  
When she felt the kicking inside her, she held her stomach. 'Don't worry,baby, it'll soon be over.' She cooed to her child and it was like she heard her because the movements immediately stopped.  
'I won't let him hurt you...Mommy's gonna save us – all of us, don't you worry.'  
Then she went downstairs and took out the knife, holding the familiar weight of metal in her hand that she hadn't seen for months. Hadn't needed or even thought about. But now she did – desperately.  
'Hi there.' She whispered to her old friend who had gone through everything with her, a witness to everything. But like her, was doomed never to be believed. 'Miss me?'  
With a small, grim smile, she began to cut at her legs until they were a criss-cross of bleeding cuts.  
'Dirty, dirty.' She scolded. 'You're a dirty girl...don't deserve him or her.' Don't deserve them.' Her grin widened as the pace of her cutting increased, becoming more frenzied as she slashed herself and the pain with it. But that didn't matter – she needed the pain so she wouldn't think about what had happened. Or think about Daryl. The more pain, the deeper she felt her mind being sucked into a dark vacuum like a black hole where she didn't have to think – only focus on the sharp, stinging pain. Feel the blood trickling down.  
Then she moved from the top of her thighs to her stomach where the thing was that had caused all this trouble. The thing that needed to be cut out. Started slashing shallowly at her stomach with light swipes of the blade before drawing it back and going in a little deeper. She was determined to cut it out but first of all she needed to work herself up to it. She also needed to feel more pain- she wasn't hurting enough to distract her. Some stubborn part of her – maybe the part that was a mother – was still resisting being sucked into oblivion.  
The blood dripped from the blade and from the cuts all over legs and belly, staining the beige carpet. She wondered dully if she would ever be able to get the blood stains out of it as she drew back the knife for another cut to her stomach, deeper this time.


	28. Chapter 28

i.  
He banged on the door and shouted through the keyhole for Mira but after the tenth time or so, there was no answer. Merle glanced back – the last thing he wanted was nosy neighbours – other staff or residents coming to investigate the noise but so far so good. Luckily, it was late in the afternoon – they ate their evening meal early here...that must be it.

He sensed something seriously was wrong ….the silence coming from inside the cottage was ominous and heavy with an unspoken dread. He had even called out his brother's name in the hope he was there but it hadn't felt like he was. He drew back his foot ready to kick it down before he slapped his head.  
'Think, you idiot, jus' think!' He slapped himself upside the head. He reached down under the mat and grinned weakly before turning the key in the lock and slipping inside.

The phone was ringing but Mira was nowhere to be found. Then again, he hadn't time to search the whole house. Intent on answering it, he didn't even notice the dark maroonish stains o the living room carpet trailing off behind the sofa. He also failed to notice its strange position.  
He strode over and Carol answered, immediately swamping him with her anxious voice. 'Mira? I've been trying to ring you for ages... It's already 5 - if you couldn't come because of Daryl, you should have let me know. I mean...I've got Lizzie here with me ...we can cover your shift. (Pause) Are you and Daryl, OK?'  
No, they are not. Daryl's disappeared but I'll find him and when I do... Merle thought wondering when he would be able to get a word in edgeways.  
'That you, Carol?' He finally managed to get in.  
'Why, who's that?' She gushed. 'Oh, I know that voice. Merle?' What are you doing there?'  
'That's me. Look...Mira asked me to tell you if you called...she can't do the evening shift. Look's like she's got what Daryl's got...She says she'll try and do her morning shift if she's up to it. But she probably won't be.' He nearly forgot to add. Because had she gone to look for his brother too in her condition despite his reassurances that he was doing everything he could to find Daryl?  
'Uh...what bad luck...both of them got the same bug. But she should be especially careful with the baby...if it gets worse, make sure you take her to the hospital.'  
'Will do. Don't worry, I'll take care of 'em. Better go now, Daryl's callin' me (I wish). Needs me to mop his brow or somethin'.' He gave a hard cackle but his laughter sounded hollow and fake even to his own ears. Didn't matter, she seemed convinced anyway.  
He put the phone down, suppressing the urge to slam it down and letting Carol hear.  
'Mira!' He bellowed throughout the house. 'I know ya in here. Is my brother with ya?'  
Silence. Then he heard it. A tiny noise coming from behind the sofa like a small gasp of pain or pleasure – he couldn't tell which. Maybe both. Then he noticed the blood stains on the carpet for the first time.   
'Jesus fucked!' He yelled before yanking back the settee...he hadn't noticed its unfamiliar and untidy position pushed far too forward from the wall and he found her crouched behind it. Looked like she must have crawled there on her hands and knees to do what? To hide? Pretty lame hiding place. With her nightdress hitched up to her waist and hunched over there, cutting her swollen stomach. Had she hurt the baby? GOD NO! He didn't even want to think how this would affect his brother who deserved some happiness in his life if anyone did. Now, it looked like it might all be ruined because he'd misjudged Daryl's girlfriend. Sbe really was a fuck-up who he should have left at the roadside in the pouring rain. Not giving her a lift because she was pretty and interesting looking.Looked just like she was running away from hell like they were.  
He glanced briefly before he turned away in disgust because the inside of her thighs were a mess of bloody cuts but at least they were shallow. Even though there was blood everywhere all over her and on the carpet, making it look worse than it was. He knew, had seen enough injuries before to know the difference between potentially fatal and superficial.  
'Stop that!' He tore the knife away from her and threw it in the corner where it couldn't hurt anyone. 'What the hell do ya think ya doin'?' He roared in her face. Shock and horror taking him over.  
She didn't react to his presence or what he had just done. He noticed her split lip and wondered if she could have done it to herself. He had to admit to himself that it was unlikely. Someone had slapped her around. A pregnant girl!   
She didn't even know he was there, for all he knew to judge by the vacant look in her eye. Worse - he could have sworn she'd been about to graduate from cutting to stabbing herself in the belly with it like a sleepwalker. Looked like he had come just in the time because what the hell was she doing? He knew she'd been a cutter but since she'd got together with his brother, he thought all that had stopped. That they were good for each other. She'd stopped his nightmares and Daryl had stopped her self-harm – a good exchange.  
Shouldn't have believed anything could go right for the Dixons – too much happiness then everything goes down the shitter.   
He knew he should clean her up first – stop the bleeding but she was looking more and more out of it. So, for the sake of her decency and his brother's, he pulled down her nightie. He'd just have to trust the bleeding would stop soon – but by the look of it she'd been crying out for help, wasn't actually suicidal. Yet, she still didn't even seem to notice, just sat there staring at a point on the wall beyond his face  
He shook her. 'What the hell's wrong with you! Were you tryin' to kill baby, you stupid bitch?' He screamed in her face but she didn't seem to hear – didn't even flinch. Just kept staring at that invisible spot on the wall behind him. Like he didn't exist and it was driving him crazy.   
He shook her again. 'What about my brother? Did ya ever think what this would do to Daryl?'  
That got her...when she mentioned his name, she seemed to come out of her fog. Infuriatingly slowly when he needed to know.   
'Have you seen him? Did he come back? Call?'  
'N...no.' She shook her head slowly, seemed surprised to find herself there, against the wall behind the sofa. 'Wha...what happened?'  
'Ya don't remember?' He shook his head in disbelief. 'Ya were cutting yaself...about to stab yaself in the belly. Were ya trying to kill the baby?'  
'What? No!' She screamed as she lunged at him to attack him with her fists even as she winced and drew back and clutched her stomach in pain instead. Forcing him to immediately regret his words. But Dixons didn't do subtle and they weren't ones for mincing words neither.  
He grabbed her small hands easily in one hand and he knew he shouldn't but he just wanted to shock her into reality so he yanked up her nightdress again– it was OK because he knew that she was wearing all-concealing underwear. 'Look!'   
She obeyed but her reaction was like a doctor regarding a patient's injuries dispassionately.  
'See- why did ya do it?'. He pulled it down again, more gently this time as his anger faded. 'Sorry...jus' wanted to make ya see what ya did to yaself.' He explained awkwardly because Dixons didn't do apologies either.  
'I...I don't know.' She started to sob. He tried to put his arm around her but she jerked it off.  
He started to realise that something was seriously wrong – maybe not her fault that she was in this state - had something happened? He reached out slowly to touch around her split lip. She didn't flinch away but carried on looking at him through her tears. Really- she's not that different from Daryl – both jumpy bags of nerves. But he'd been getting better.  
He softened his voice. 'Did something happen?'' He repeated.  
Her lips trembled because suddenly it was all coming back to her in an overwhelming rush.  
'Did someone come round...maybe the psycho who's got my brother?'  
'Yeah.' She tried to pull herself together but she couldn't. 'It's...B...Barry...'  
'Ya sick fuck stepdad? What did he want?'  
'He...he...' Her breath hitched. 'He's the one who's got Daryl.'  
He grabbed her shoulders then. 'Where? Is he still alive?'  
'Yeah.' She pointed to the other side of the room. 'He...he left his number...wants ya to meet him, man to man, tomorrow. He leapt up to grab the small piece of paper, carefully examining the number.  
He breathed a sigh of relief. Took her face in his hand. 'Thank God. Knew Darlena wouldn't ever abandon ya and the kid...'   
He traced her split lip gently with his finger again. 'Did he do this?'  
'Yeah...' But her lips twisted and the tears threatened to spill down her cheeks again, belying her casual tone.  
He tore himself away and thumped the table with his fist in rage. Started swearing loudly and foully.  
'Bastard! Did he do anythin' else?' He pressed.  
'Yeah...But it don't matter. Didn't do anything he didn't do before. We got to get Daryl back!' The tears were really now running down her cheeks and Merle suddenly had the urge to kiss them away but he didn't.  
. 'But please don't ask me what he did. I can't...can't say...'  
He turned away then because he didn't really want to know but he could imagine what the bastard did...he just wondered how far he went. Not caring that she was nearly due.  
' Don't worry, I'm gonna fuckin' kill him. Make sure he'll never hurt you or anyone ever again.' He meant her and the baby as well as his brother.  
She looked up at him and he couldn't read her expression. He hoped that she approved.

ii.

 

'Come on, girl.' He reached for her but naturally she flinched away. Thanks to Barry she didn't even trust him any more.  
He paused and looked at her in mild exasperation. 'It's OK, don't ya know me by now? Said I ain't gonna do nothin' to ya...'sides, ya with Daryl now.'  
'Yeah ...I remember us bein' together never stopped ya tryin' to kiss me!!' She hissed weakly but she let him pick her up. Carry her up to the bathroom and lay her gently on the floor.   
'Jus' gonna run a bath...then we need to bandage ya up. Lucky ya all this didn't bring on the baby early.'  
'It's not that early. It's about due now.' She mumbled barely audibly, voice fading.  
'You got any bandages, antiseptic cream?' He started to ransack the bathroom cabinet.  
'Got it!' He turned around as her eyes started to flutter.  
'Don't pass out on me!' He slapped her cheek lightly to wake her up. She came around slowly and he wondered if it was blood loss...if he should take her to hospital after all.  
'No...' She mumbled as he began to strip her to her underwear.'Barry...don't.'  
'It's Merle. And I have to do this...or maybe ya want to go to the hospital straightaway?'  
'No...' There was panic in her voice.  
'I ain't lookin', promise.' He told her as he lifted her up with a grunt and laid her in the warm bath. He'd checked the water temperature beforehand and filled it up with bubble bath. Of course he knew Darlena was mad on that stuff – they didn't always have even a bar of soap when they'd been growing up - hadn't been able to afford that necessity.  
'See – can't see nothin' now.' She still had her bra and panties on – sensible white cotton and he really hadn't seen anything. Except for the cuts and the scars.... the fresh ones standing out from the old...even Merle had winced when he saw them. He'd known that she was a cutter – but he hadn't known the full extent of it. Barely an inch of her limbs front and back were left unmarked.  
He urged her forward so that he could sponge her back and neck. She even started to rcome to more and elax when he began to massage her there in circles.   
'Ah.' She groaned. 'That feels so good.'  
He smirked because he knew he was good with his hands. People told him all the time. Not just in the sack either...he could literally heal with them. He knew – he'd helped Daryl get over what their Dad did to him.  
But was he really over it? And what was this crazy psycho Barry doing with his baby brother right now? Something that would set him back years again? He pushed the worry aside because he had to make sure Mira was OK first. Daryl would never forgive him if he didn't take care of her.  
'Here.' He stopped suddenly and handed it to her. 'You'll have to wash...um...down there.'  
He looked away and she was surprised to see him blush. Merle – embarrassed? Never?  
She nodded and started to dab the cuts between her legs and on her belly. He knew that the warm water must have made them stung when he put her in but she'd been too out of it to notice the pain. Now she was wincing – he couldn't help catching her from out of the corner of her eye as she gingerly felt herself – her stomach and her upper legs and he chivalrously turned away even though it was all hidden by the foam.  
'They hurt?'  
'Yeah. I wanna get out now. You shouldn't have to do this ...take care of me...you should be rescuing Daryl.'  
'Yeah, I know. But how's he gonna feel if he comes back only to find somethin' happened to ya and the baby? He'd never forgive me – he'd want me to put you and his kid first, I know him.'  
She shrugged. 'I jus' can't believe...'  
He took the sponge from her again and started dabbing her neck and throat.  
'Don't worry, he ain't gonna do anythin' with him tonight...needs him as bait.'  
She turned to glare at him. 'How can ya be like that! He's ya brother!'  
'Sh...' He wound her long hair into a ponytail and tugged on it gently. 'If he was dead or injuried, I would know.'  
'How?'  
He shrugged. 'Look, I'm gonna get him tomorrow, bring him home after I've dealt with that asshole, Barry.'  
He noticed her shudder involuntarily when he mentioned her stepfather's name.  
'Wanna get out now? Towel's heating on the radiator.'  
She nodded. 'But I can get out myself...don't need you.' But as if to disprove her words, she wobbled and nearly fell down in a faint when she stood up. He caught her.  
'Allow me. Still not sure whether I shouldn't take ya to the hospital...you've been bleedin'...'  
'I'm OK!' She snapped but her eyes fluttered and and he wrapped her in a warm towel and took her into the bedroom. Of course her underwear was soaking.   
He tried to wake her up by slapping her lightly, splashing her with the bath water.  
'Shit...Oh, shit...' He felt her pulse. It was strong and steady. 'Wake up!'  
But she didn't stir. He lay her down on their bed, still wrapped in the towel. Checked her colour – pale but no more than usual.   
He prayed that she was just exhausted or should he drive her to the ER?  
And face all those awkward questions? He had more chance of getting rid of Barry for once and for all if few people knew he'd been here. Or why or what his connection to Mira was.  
He sighed and went back into the bathroom to fetch the bandages and antiseptic.  
Started to clean her up, she mumbled and jerked but otherwise didn't rouse. Maybe it's better that way but when she wakes up with her underwear off, she's gonna think I took advantage. Still sees me as a piece of shit with no morals and she's probably right.   
Maybe I should leave them on.  
He shrugged as he cleaned up the cuts. He noted with relief that he'd been right – they were superficial. She must just be exhausted ...no surprise if that animal had done to her what she'd suggested he'd done. Merle felt a thrill of rage and righteous anger because the girl was family now and he was going to make the sick fuck die in agony. Just like another pervert who had hurt his baby brother in that way...even if he had been their father because in the end, it hadn't mattered, none of it had. Not when they crossed that particular line.  
In fact, he would look forward to ending the bastard nice and slow so he'd be screaming and pleading for forgiveness and mercy neither of which he would get before he died gratefully.  
No, I ain't touchin' her ...leave 'em on. They'll probably dry overnight, don't want her to get the wrong idea. She still thinks I can't be trusted, he decided as he finished rubbing the cream into the last cut. At least she can't feel it stinging, he thought to himself.   
He rolled her out of her towel but by then she was snoring lightly and he thought it was cute. Did Darlena mind her snoring in bed at night? Did it keep him awake? He didn't think so. Really, he should be more worried about him – he was and he would rescue him in the morning. After he'd arranged a rendez-vous with that sack of shit by phone. Keeping his temper and leaving out the threats and insults was going to be a challenge.  
'Night, night, princess.' He kissed her forehead before he tucked her in. 'Don't worry, I'll get Darlena back for ya in time for the birth.'  
He closed the door gently. Thought about just scouting around to look if he could find where Daryl was being held – he knew it must be somewhere isolated. An old factory maybe? Plenty of disused places around. It would be somewhere nearby, he knew.

 

'


	29. Chapter 29

DSLW 29

i.  
Mira

I'd been disgusted with myself at how easy it was to fall back into old habits and give that man I hated what he wanted. Without fighting enough but then again, he'd been doing it to me since I turned 12. Feeling like a whore. Because he had Daryl and I had to keep him sweet – he'd offered to take me to him and let him go. What he always wanted - me down on my knees. Or underneath him, I shuddered. And he didn't take me with him of course, but then again, I couldn't remember him actually leaving – it was a blank. Couldn't even remember cutting my bleeding thighs or why my forearms were bleeding so much.   
I'd told him 'No!' but he never listened. Persisted in his sick delusion that I actually felt the same way – his heavy, flabby body pressed against me after I'd made him lunch (again doing what he wanted) when I had hoped that if I sucked him really well, he'd leave it at that. Didn't my big belly and swollen ankles put him off me?  
Apparently not.   
'I'll be gentle, promise.' He promised. 'Nice and easy. Won't hurt him or her.'  
I remember the terror and the sense of violation – really I should have been used to it but I'd had three years without.  
'OK...! That's it – nice and easy.' Barry whispered in my ear even as I shook my head as he slimed his way down the back of my neck with sloppy, clumsy kisses making me want to scrub each part of me his lips touched.  
But I couldn't.   
'No!' I hissed. 'Please, Barry. You can't...'  
He yanked my hair back then. 'Call me Daddy while I do it.' Like he often did in the past.  
'No...please.'  
Then something unexpected happened.   
'OK. Maybe ya right. Don't want to hurt an innocent child. Especially if it's another little Mira.' His chuckles as if he had made the world's funniest joke made my blood run cold but I didn't know why. Or I did but just didn't want to admit it to myself.  
Then to my amazement, I heard him pull up his underwear first, then his pants.' I started to get up from the sofa in relief because since when did he ever listen to me?  
'Uh huh, no you don't.' He shoved me back down and pinned me with his body.  
'Are you going to still take me to Daryl?'  
'Only if you're a good girl to Daddy.'  
I forgot my worry about my boyfriend and that I shouldn't make Barry angry as I hissed back, 'Fuck you. You ain't my Daddy.'  
'Exactly.' He let out that maddening chuckle again that had my teeth on edge. 'Like ya always said, so that means I can do what I like with ya and I won't be doin' nothin' wrong.'  
'No you can't!'  
'Shut up.' He slapped the back of my head. 'You've got me all hot and bothered, Mira, sweetheart, so I need to do somethin' 'bout it. Can't go outside like this.'  
'Then take a cold shower! We've got one!.' I retorted. 'You don't have to do this, please Dad.'  
He bit the side of my throat and I squirmed in shock – no doubt he told himself that I liked it.  
'No, jus' gonna have to do this. Come in my pants. It's pretty hot outside – any stains'll dry pretty quick.' And with that he started to grind himself against my panties – wouldn't let me pull them down.  
'Oh, Mira, ' He started to pant, very quickly he was moaning. 'Oh, baby. I've missed ya so much, why did ya run away from me?'  
''Cos ya sick!' I hissed as it felt like I was being pounded into the sofa. The springs creaked. I hoped they wouldn't break – not with my weight and his.  
He yanked my hair again, that and slapping me were this usual M.O. to make me submit to the things he did to me.   
'Don't lie, I know ya embarassed 'bout our love. That ya feel bad for ya Mom. I haven't told her yet that I've found ya...Think she'll be pleased?'  
'No! Don't tell her where I am! She doesn't care 'bout me!'   
He didn't answer or maybe he wasn't listening as his thrusts started to come and faster and harder.   
At least he isn't inside me. I thought to myself, trying to endure the situation. If he just dry humps me like this, does it still count as rape? I could feel his hardness sticking into my backside even through his clothes. It was more uncomfortable than painful, the humiliation was the worst. Especially what he'd made me do just before ...but that had felt like it was my fault.  
Feeling even more like a whore – what would Daryl think of me if he knew? I started to push back against him and he made a pleased sound of surprise. But I was just trying to make him finish faster.  
After what seemed like hours, he shuddered and came with a loud cry. Lay on top of me but I didn't move away or try to get him off me. Simply couldn't make myself move. I must have already started to fade out by then.  
He planted another wet, dog-like kiss on the back of my neck and somehow, this was the worst thing of all – the last shove that finally tumbled me over the edge. I desperately wished I could wipe it – no- scrape all the skin off. But that must have been when I completely lost myself because after that I couldn't remember anything, must have blacked out then because that's when Merle found me.

ii.  
Merle

'Jesus!' I hissed. I'd heard her crying before but just before I decided that I couldn't take it any more and was about to get up from the sofa where the bastard maybe did God knows what to her. I didn't let myself think about that. Somehow, I knew that it had all happened here and not in the bedroom, she'd been hiding behind the couch of course, when I found her.  
She had woken me up just like Daryl used to but comforting him had been easy. I knew what to do. Her – on the other hand- what she'd just been through made me nervous and unsure.  
What if she thought I was going in there to do what he did?  
I covered my ears with the pillow, didn't want to hear. Hoping she would stop. She was clearly trying to muffle her noises, probably most people wouldn't have heard but then most people weren't Dixons. Hunters with sharp ears.   
In fact, the sounds got more and more desperate and I knew she wasn't going to stop anytime soon.  
I rolled out of bed was about to go in there in just my underwear (I hadn't planned on staying – hadn't brought anything with me, not even a toothbrush) but decided that might freak her out. She'd probably misunderstand my intentions so with a sigh, I pulled on my clothes – all of them except my shoes.  
I went to her door and decided to knock. The noises immediately stopped.  
'Go away.'   
'You OK?'  
'Yeah, fine. Jus' can't sleep...worried sick about Daryl.'  
'Me too. I'm comin' in, OK?'  
'No!'  
I hesitated. Probably going against her wishes when she'd specifically told me 'No' was not a good idea – was exactly what that bastard done.  
'I only want to talk, is all. Heard ya cryin'.'  
No answer but she didn't tell me to get lost either. So, I took a chance and hovered near the bed.  
The moonlight was bright even in the dark bedroom – and I could easily see her shape under the covers on the bed. Especially her bump.  
'Ya OK?'  
She turned to him and he could see her expression clearly in the moonlight. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her lips were trembling.  
'He...he....'  
'Did he hurt ya? Ya never told me what he did. But I can guess.'  
'Yeah, he did. But not as bad as he could have...It was so disgusting. I feel so dirty...' She started rubbing at the arms he'd already cleaned and bandaged up.  
'Stop that.' He grabbed her hands to still them. 'Sh...That ain't true. The only one who's disgustin' is the sick fuck who kidnapped my brother. For what he did to you too.'  
He released her and got on the bed and she shrunk away.  
'It's OK. Look- I'll stay on top of the covers, completely decent. Even Daryl couldn't say nothin' if he was here.'  
'N...No.' The fear was clear in her eyes.  
'Ya don't want to be alone tonight. Ya've been through hell...still goin' through it.'  
'No, please.'  
He stubbornly made himself comfortable.   
'Fine, ya stay on ya side and I'll stay on mine.' He started to close his eyes.   
'No! I know what you're going to do. Wait until I'm asleep and then...then....'  
'Jesus!' He was finally angry that she was afraid of him and didn't trust him. 'Think I could do that? I fuckin' killed my Dad for doin' it to my little brother. What do ya take me for?'  
She looked guilty now instead of scared.  
'Sorry...Jus' not used to trustin' guys...'  
'It's OK. Come here.' He motioned with his arms for her to go to him.   
She slid over but kept her back to him. He hugged her from on top of the covers.  
'But you better not let ya hands go a-wandering in the night. Ya hear?' She sleepily muttered but few minutes later, her breathing had evened out and he felt her body slacken and relax. He smiled when she turned around in her sleep to nestle her forehead against his chest with her bump between them and he tightened his arms around her in response.  
Merle decided that he liked making his family feel safe. On the other end of the scale though, he had to admit, he was capable of mercilessly torturing those who hurt the ones he cared about until they were begging for death. The sadist in him enjoyed revenge. He guessed his freelance work as a debt collector /contract killer had prepared him for that and when he'd come back to find his Dad on top of a crying Daryl and both of them naked, Merle had just lost it. The bastard cruelly mocking and taunting his baby brother – about their dead mother of all the people - at the same time has he was raping him had simply made him snap, causing him to forget that he was their father. When before that day, Merle had loved the man, forgiven him no matter how he punished him and Daryl. But not that.

He would never ever forgive that. 

….  
iii.

She woke up and snuggled into the arms holding her. 'Daryl?' She mumbled in relief. 'Baby, you came back.'  
But then the next moment her eyes flew open and she felt something wet between her legs.  
She winced as a cramp hit her and felt between her thighs, drew out her fingers covered in blood.   
She recalled the pains for the first time when Barry was there but at the time she must have forgotten about them and put them down to the stress of the situation. Anyway, they had stopped since then.   
What if she was losing the baby or something was wrong? Was it possible to miscarry so late on?  
She didn't think so.   
'Merle!' She shook him awake. She didn't want to show him the blood so she had wiped it on the sheet underneath her where he couldn't see.  
He came slowly awake. He'd still stayed above the covers. 'Merle!'  
'What? What is it?'  
She winced as another cramping pain struck her. 'I'm...I'm bleeding.' She stuttered. 'I think...I think I'm losing the baby!'


	30. Chapter 30

i.  
Mira

'I think I'm losing the baby!' Even my own words sounded hollow and unreal to my ears. Ignoring my embarrassment and without so much as 'By ya leave', Merle tore back the covers.  
'No, ya ain't. Not this far gone...'  
'What the fuck do ya know about it!' I snarled, sounding for all the world more like his brother as another cramp tore through me. But part of me was more than glad that he was there especially with my worry about Daryl.  
He looked down at a blood-streaked jelly-like lump on the sheet and to my disbelief, grinned. Not a hint of squeamishness when I felt sick to my stomach.  
'I know we should get ya to the hospital. Jus' in case but it looks jus' like the show.'  
'What?' I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. 'What show?'  
'Ain't too much blood.' He looked down, with the cool, detached manner of a doctor and what he said and it was true.'We should get ya to hospital.' He saw my frantic expression and added, 'Jus' in case. But I think the baby's gonna be OK – it jus' means it's gonna come soon.'  
'Don't worry.' He said as he picked me up in his arms. I was too surprised to protest as he wrapped me up in the duvet and carried me almost effortlessly despite my weight down the stairs and out to his truck. Laid me down gently on the back seat.  
'Merle!' I called after him as he went back into the house. He just waved me away impatiently and a few moments later he came out with a spare blanket after pulling the door shut. I saw that he had the keys jangling in his pocket. Tucked it around me. 'For the baby.' He said before he got in the front and put his foot on the pedal and we tore off.  
I winced at another cramp which made me wonder if he was just fobbing me off when he said that we'd be OK.   
I must have passed out then because I woke up in the ward.   
'The b...baby?' I croaked, feeling around for my stomach in panic for her. I thought of it as 'her', probably it was my subconscious wanting a little girl.   
The kindly, middle-aged nurse smiled at me. 'You're both fine, you and your little daughter. The bleeding's nothing to worry about – just your body getting ready for the birth. Shouldn't be too long now.'  
'What?' Once the fact that I wasn't going to lose our baby sunk in, I could focus on what else she was telling me. We hadn't wanted to know the sex, I thought it was unlucky and now she'd told me!'  
She patted my shoulder consolingly. 'The young man who brought you in rushed off. He's the father, I take it?'  
'NO!' I said so loudly that she recoiled. 'Sorry,' I added. 'Can ya give me something for the pain? And I'm thirsty.'  
'Righty-then.' She bustled off to fetch me more pills and water even though I wasn't really in pain. The doctor came in later and told me that would pass and explained about the 'plug' that had fallen out from my womb that's what the blood was.   
…  
I'd given them my real name even though it meant my parents could track me down – maybe. Well, that didn't matter any more since Barry had already found me. I shuddered at the memory becasuse I'd wanted to do things right, not build something based on lies and the whole time I was worried sick about Daryl, hadn't see Merle leave but knew that he was going to meet Barry.  
Not for the first time I regretted not going to the cops – shouldn't have listened to Merle – I knew that the Dixons didn't trust the cops. Not that I couldn't blame them – they hadn't done me or Daryl any good. No-one had ever noticed what was happening to me or him.

….  
ii.

Merle

After I'd taken her to hospital (she'd passed out before we got there) and they told me they were going to examine her but it looked like there was nothing to worry about, just like I'd suspected, I jumped back in my truck. Had to go and get Daryl back after I'd beaten the crap out of Mira's sick fuck of a stepdad. I growled and clenched my fists at my side when I thought what he'd done to her, what he could be doing to Daryl.   
I put my hands in my pocket to take out the piece of paper and nearly had a heart attack when my hand came up empty. Tried the other one – nothing.  
Fuck – fuck! I cursed until I remembered where I'd put it. The drama with Mira had swept the fact clear out of my mind – that I must have put it in my jacket. With something akin to panic I grabbed it from the back seat and searched all the pockets, breathed a sigh of relief when I found it. The bastard's number on it. and drove to the nearest telephone kiosk. Got in there and rang the number. Held my breath while he let it rang 10, 15, 20 times, was about to give up when I heard deep breathing and he answered.  
'Where is he, you fuckin' bastard?' I lashed out, not even bothering to introduce myself. We were past that now, anyway, he knew who I was.  
He chuckled. 'Wouldn't ya like to know.' Then he gave me the address, presumably of an abandoned warehouse down by the docks and I wrote it down. I refrained from saying all the things I really wanted to say – like tell him what I was going to do to him but kept my voice calm after that and just followed his instructions to get there at the time he specified. After dusk, of course.   
…  
Forty-five minutes later I drew up to the lot and the bastard was waiting for me with no-one else around. It was dark I knew it was him – his big gut swaying in front of him, his billowing shirt like a sail preceeding him and the thought of him on top of Mira, crying, forcing himself on her made me see red. I don't know how I held back.  
A fatal mistake to let my anger get the best of me as he proved by pulling the gun out on me. His little piggy eyes gleaming in triumph.   
'So you're the big brother, are ya? Take it ya not the father, though ya could be, I take it.'  
'Ya don't know nothin'.' I snarled not willing to enlighten him. He didn't deserve to know.   
'In front.' He barked and I had no choice to obey. Not if I wanted to see my brother again.  
Still, I put my hands in my pocket for the gun. Even though I tried to be subtle, the bastard saw of course. 'Take it out!' He barked. 'Otherwise I'll kill ya precious baby brother.'   
'Fuck you.' I hissed. 'Ya touch him and I'll...I'll...'  
He prodded me hard in the back of the neck with the gun. 'You'll do what?' He taunted.   
I felt him take the gun off me - literally. 'Stay there.' Like I was going to go anywhere else with Daryl inside. He ordered as he bent down to undo the padlock.  
'Daryl!' I yelled. 'Daryl! Ya in there?'  
'Shut up.' He hissed. 'Ya want him, better do as I say.'  
He shoved me in there where I saw a shape huddled in the corner. Neck bent to one side at an unnatural angle and I knew it was him and I felt sick with dread.   
'What did ya do to him, bastard? Is he...' I didn't get to finish my sentence before he laughed crazily and pistol-whipped me a sickening blow to make me collapse to the floor. The edges of my vision grey out and spreading before I was plunged into darkness.


	31. Chapter 31

DSLW 31

i.  
Merle

I came to slowly, the veils of grey began to lift. Where was Mira? I patted the bed in front of me but it was hard- like concrete and then I remembered.  
'Daryl?' I whispered and was greeted by a callous laugh.  
'He can't hear ya, boy's dead.' With a jolt of hard reality, I saw that it was true. My kid brother was slumped at an awkward angle against the wall to my side – his neck clearly broken.  
'Why...ya...!' I struggled to get up and reach him but my hands were cuffed behind me. To the rusty pipe that used to be painted white going along the wall.   
'Ya didn't think I'd show mercy, did ya? Not when he took– No – stole – the one thing that was most precious to me in the world? Also, I knew that his death would destroy you.   
'Ya one crazy fucked-up shit. Stay away from her!'  
As I turned my head to stare at my brother, sitting there all broken, body twisted – I experienced something I had never felt before – my eye-lids pricking with tears. I'd never cried in my life before – even when Mama died. Definitely not when I'd put the old bastard down for what he was doing to my brother when I caught him – Daryl had been 16 then but was small and skinny for his age. No match for that big bastard when he was on top of him.  
I was a Dixon and Dixons don't cry! Besides, he wouldn't want me to cry for him!  
Still, my voice was cracking as I snarled, 'I'll kill ya for this. Ya gonna be beggin' for death by the time I'm through with ya.'  
'Did ya know he begged me to spare his life for the sake of my daughter and their baby before I broke his neck? Was fuckin' whimperin' like a little pussy – ya must have heard him do that before. Called me Daddy and kept beggin' me to stop – jus' like a little bitch. What the fuck did he do to him, anyway? Couldn't stand the sound no more, so, I started chokin' him – 'cos fuckin' irritatin' is what that noise is.'  
'Ya a fuckin' liar!' I screamed back but saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. Not wanting to let him know.  
Because if I hadn't gone crazy and seeing things I desperately wanted to see, Daryl had winked at me and shook his head imperceptibly. Not that that gloating goblin right in front of us would have noticed. I deliberately didn't react but kept watching him from the side. His twitched his little finger – a tiny movement that unless you were looking for it, you wouldn't have seen it. An old signal from the good old bad days when we had to get our stories straight in front of Dad although I was the usually the one to give it to him. It meant – Keep quiet and let me do the talking baby brother and we'll both get out of this alive. It was meant as a reassurance.   
But now he was reassuring me. I glanced discreetly at the back of him and saw that the ropes tying his hands were loose while I was handcuffed to the wall. I whooped inside and counted my lucky stars that the bastard had used them on me instead but not thought to use them on Daryl. Or maybe he had only bought them especially for me. Whatever – sick fuck had made a fatal mistake.   
I desperately wanted to tell him that Mira and the baby were OK despite the scare.  
Now I got that he wanted me to keep up my act. The demon right in front of me would get suspicious so I psyched myself to do one of the hardest things I had ever done in my life. Killing Dad didn't come anywhere near.  
I cried, letting the tears roll down my cheeks, sensing my brother's disbelief. Maybe not realising that I was pretending. I started to pound the floor for full effect – barely glancing at my brother.   
Barry stopped prancing – strange to see someone so overweight as he was but that's exactly what he was doing and stared at me, mouth wide open.  
'Ah...ya Dixons ain't all ya cracked up to be! Jus' a pretty pair of pussies – ain't ya?...Can't understand why everyone's so fuckin' scared of you two.'  
I looked sideways at my brother and clenched my fist but carried on blubbering. Come on, Daryl. Do it now – this is fuckin' torture to be laughed at by this creep! Letting my brother who expected me to be the tough one and take of him see me like this. But imagining that he was dead for real made it easier to squeeze the tears out. Remembering my feelings when I first saw him.  
'After I've dealt with ya...I'm gonna go get my girl back and when she's given birth – I'll have two of them. Family – real family.' He rubbed his hands in glee and there was a dirty little twinkle in his eye.  
Daryl! Now, Daryl! I thought at him as I carried on sobbing and the bastard looked at me distantly, like I was some kind of freakish but fascinating lab specimen.   
Like he heard me, I sensed him smirk at me as he launched himself suddenly without warning. Grabbed the metal spanner that he'd been hiding underneath him and flew at his tormentor, taking him completely by surprise. Besides, the fat fuck was slow on his feet.   
'What?' He snarled as he drew back the spanner and struck Barry on his temple. 'Did ya think ya could really kill me? An out-of-shape piece-of-shit like ya? Had it worse from worse than you, ya sick fuck!'   
Blood was dripping down the bastard's face – into his eyes and he was momentarily blinded. Daryl drew back to strike another blow – this time on his shoulder and if I didn't know my brother – it looked like he'd deliberately missed. That got him – as the heavy man sank down like a sack of potatoes, screaming in pain. Daryl struck him again on the head – more of a glancing blow and still the creep didn't pass out. This time, he'd recovered enough from the shock that my brother was still alive to raise his hands to try and protect his head and face while now Daryl laughed like a maniac, sounding just like him.  
'Daryl! Stop!' I yelled. He brutally kicked Barry, making him groan and clutch his considerable stomach. Couldn't get his pudgy hands all the way round it. Daryl with a look of distaste grabbed them and secured them behind him with the same coil of rope that he'd bound him with.   
'What?' He sneered. 'Thought ya of all people would want me to kill 'im – do ya know what he did to Mira? For fuckin' years!' His voice rose in rage but he trembled, no doubt remembering his own similar experiences with Dad. I suddenly felt afraid of my own normally gentle brother – usually his bark was worse than his bite under all that simmering rage and aggression. But most people didn't see that side of him.  
His face fell as if he suddenly remembered something important and his anger died away as he glanced down at the pain-stricken man at his feet. 'M...Merle, is she OK? And the baby?' He stammered, sounding more like his shy self again and pleading me with his eyes to tell him everything was going to be OK.  
Even Barry in his suffering pricked his ears at that question. Maybe on some twisted level, he really did care for her and the child. Saw them as belonging to him, no doubt.  
'Yeah...she's ok. Was bleedin' but she's OK. Baby too – not long now.'  
He visibly sighed in relief echoed by her stepfather on the floor.  
'What about him?' He jerked a thumb down at Barry before striding back up to him and grabbing him by the throat. Eye to eye. 'I'm gonna kill ya, you sick fuck so ya can't hurt her again.'  
'Daryl.' I warned. 'Leave him – he ain't worth it. Let's go.'  
'No!' He yelled back. 'Bastard deserves to die!'  
'I know but ya can't go around killing everybody who crosses ya – then there'd be no-one left in the world!'  
'Bullshit!' He stared at me in disbelief because maybe I had grown up. '  
What 'bout Dad! Remember what ya did to him – dragged it out nice and slow, didn't ya? Made him suffer right to the end.'  
'That was different. Ya remember what he was doin' to ya!' I roared back, immediately regretting it when I saw the shudder pass through him and his lips tremble but that didn't last long.  
'Then ya'll understand.' He kicked Barry's hands out of his face and swung back the bloody spanner and hit him again. I heard his jaw crack as his face seemed to implode. Finally, the big man was out but couldn't tell if he was dead or just unconscious. I decided he didn't care.  
Daryl was by my side in an instant after he'd grabbed the keys from Barry's pocket to unlock his cuffs. I got up uncertainly and swayed on my feet into his arms as he supported me. Couldn't understand why I seemed to be in a worse state than him when he'd been stuck down here for days no doubt.   
'Saw ya cry.' He teased. 'Fuckin' pussy.'  
'I was pretendin'!' I replied. 'Distract the bastard.'  
'Don't believe ya. Ya thought I was dead.'  
'Dixons don't cry. Ya know that.'  
'Fuck that.' He dragged me out of there as we stepped over Barry's body. Surprisingly, my brother was the one to stop and suggest we check his pulse. After he was determined to kill him but I shook my head. 'No need to. Bastard's dead or he's gonna be.'  
He looked at me questioningly at that. Confused. Nevertheless, he didn't push it.  
'Come on.' I said and pulled him away out of the door. That was until my damn legs nearly gave away. He smirked.   
Outside, I stumbled against the broken chain-fence. 'Jesus, what the fuck's wrong with me? In a worse state than ya and ya look like hell.' It was true, he looked thin and a little bruised up but no worse than after one of Dad's beatings.  
'We need somethin' flammable. Maybe there's some around here.'  
'Merle! What ya thinkin'...he's inside!'  
I turned on him. 'Don't ya want to get rid of the evidence and of him at the same time, baby brother?'  
He stared at me. 'But...but ya said...What made ya change ya...'  
'Ya right. Crazy fuck'll never leave you and Mira alone. Wants the kid too – said as much.'  
'Jesus!' He slapped his thigh. 'For what?' He asked while I shook my head at him. He was still so naïve at times.  
'Take a guess...if it's a girl...or maybe even if it's not...'  
'Fuck! Like him?...That's sick!' He cried out in revulsion.   
'Stop yappin' and find some oil or somethin' and set the place alight.'  
'What if I can't? Place's been abandoned long time...been looted already.' He held back – was dubious.  
'Well...fuckin' try!' I snapped. Irritated that he was questioning everything I said, all I wanted was him to do what I told him to and leave me to sleep.  
I heard him stomp off, muttering darkly as my eye-lids fluttered and I finally gave in to the exhaustion. The low-grade thumping at the back of my skull which I'd barely noticed with the rush of adrenalin when we were confronting Barry reasserted itself again and I hoped that the blow he'd given me wasn't that serious. Probably I was a little concussed – that it was it.  
But then I was woken up with no idea of how much time had passed. Coming to groggily for the second time as my brother shook me in panic. 'Merle! Merle!' He cried. 'Wake the fuck up! He's gone! Barry's gone!'


	32. Chapter 32

Daryl

'What?' My brother mumbled as he came to rubbing his head.  
'it's Barry! He's gone!'  
'Sh...' He put his arm around me and drew me to him. 'Go back to sleep.' He ordered me sleepily.  
'No! Merle!' I shoved him hard in the chest. 'Wake the fuck up! I'm tellin' ya he's gone or someone took him!' That made him sit up as he groaned out loud and got up in a hurry.   
'Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!' He yelled. 'We're fucked, ya realise that, don't ya?'  
'Well then! What we waitin' for?' I grabbed him by the shirt collar. 'We gotta go and try and find him!'  
I didn't wait to check that he was following me as I ignored the aches and pains all over my body where the coward had beaten me up in jealous rage with my hands tied behind my back. I'd taken it all without the reaction he'd been looking for – mostly with a grunt, sometimes with a scornful chuckle because it was nothing and my reaction – or my lack of it – infuriated him but then he didn't know I'd had much worse and from a master of torture – which thankfully, he was not. Not even in Dad's ballpark, let alone his league. Besides, he'd only beaten me up – nothing else and that I could deal with. I'd pushed back the pain at the time but now it was hitting me all in full force when I couldn't afford to take a break and lick my wounds. I realised if we didn't find him – dead or alive, we could be going to jail for real now. We'd already got away with hiding one dead body but we wouldn't get away with another and that had been a miracle in itself but Dixon luck wouldn't hold out that far.  
I sensed rather than saw my brother limping as fast as he could behind me as I threw myself into his truck.  
'Keys!' I ordered and he pulled open the glove compartment and handed them to me. 'Where do ya think he could be?' I asked.  
'No fuckin' idea – but let's jus' look around. Ya did him pretty good – still can't believe he's alive. Probably still has his hands tied behind his back unless he's got them free somehow.'  
'Damn!' My hands went white as I gripped the steering-wheel. We looked right then left – neither of us saying what we feared was true – that Barry had been rescued. Right now he could be on his way to the cop station and giving his side of the story and sealing our fates. And we were Dixons – scum of the earth – I didn't trust the law would come down on our side.   
We went back and forth as far along the road (there was only one to this waste land) almost back into town before turning around and scouting all the other short-cuts and other lanes he could have gone down but saw nothing before we headed back to the warehouse and where he'd kept me for three days – so Merle and Mira told me. We split and searched around the other buildings that weren't padlocked – by then it was pitch black and I was worried that we hadn't let Mira know that we were OK. But we hadn't seen any phones – besides we didn't know the name of the hospital Merle told me she was still at. Well – it was a small town, only one main A& E.  
I stopped suddenly – it had started to piss down heavily with rain. 'He ain't here!' I said, waving my hands in exasperation. There was no trace that he'd been there or where he'd gone, creepily not even a blood trail. The blood stain where he'd been where I'd put him down just stopped where his body had been. I recalled how weird I thought that had been when I went back to check again.  
'We should leave. Tonight.' Merle announced.  
I stomped my foot determinedly. 'No!' I hissed. 'What about Mira? We got a baby on the way and I'm sick of runnin' whenever things get tough.'  
'Daryl...'  
'No! I'm all grown up now. He obviously ain't dead – I didn't kill him.' I snapped. 'Wish I had...' I was tempted to add but didn't.  
Merle turned and grunted without answering. 'Yeah - let's see whose story they believe when it comes to the crunch. Asshole's probably already in hospital or down the copshop...'  
'But what he did to Mira...'  
He hissed in frustration and grabbed my head between his hands and shook it. 'Wake the fuck up! Who do ya think they'll believe? I know she's covered in scars but they'll say she did it to herself because she's crazy – that she's lyin'. Bastard's got money and position and all we got is shit.' He gave me an angry shove and released me.  
'How the fuck do ya know that?' Barry had told me that he'd seen them getting cosy together and when the adrenalin had been rushing through me, I'd pushed my old suspicions aside. Just assumed that he was fucking with me but part of me didn't trust my brother when it came to her. He'd always wanted whatever I had not that I'd ever had much so it hadn't really mattered before. Until I got something that should have just been for me and me alone. Asshole couldn't let us just be although of course he'd twisted it into doing me a favour. Apparently. He'd kissed her to see if she was good enough for me, a bullshit for an excuse if I ever heard one. Barry and the threat his disappearance posed was all but forgotten as I suddenly felt such a sudden renewed surge of anger and hate for my brother that I saw red. Now - it was my turn to grab him and shove him hard against the wall. 'What did ya do to her, ya fuck?'   
'Nothin'. She told me she used to cut herself 'cos of Barry and she was upset when ya disappeared...' Yet his gaze slid away from me and I knew he was hiding something he didn't want me to know and my eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
'Yet I bet she were. And ya jus' happened to be there for her...weren't ya, huh, big brother?' I accused him bitterly and in a rage, I drew back my fist and punched him full on the nose. All the bad feeling and resentment that had been simmering between us surfaced just then. His hooter spurted blood and his head twisted to the side and I felt a sort of grim satisfaction at seeing it like that. Broken like I'd felt when I found out about him and Mira. By now it was raining buckets and we were soaking wet but neither of us took any notice. Besides, he was dazed and I let him have it – broke his nose until he started defending himself and it turned into a real fist-fight when were both pretty beat up ourselves but our injuries or adding pain upon pain didn't faze us one bit.  
We completely forgot all about Mira's crazy stepfather and the trouble we could be in.   
A stupid mistake - one that would come back to haunt us later but of course, we didn't think of it then.   
Somehow we fell out the truck and ended up tussling on the ground and he flipped us round so that he was on top of me. 'I didn't...do nothin'!' He split my lip. 'I saw...she was cryin'...yeah - a real fuckin' turn on – man- fuckin' cryin' over you! Then she had the scare and ya were still missin' – she was bleedin' and thought she was gonna lose ya kid, man!'  
I glared up at him, blood dripping down my face but it was soon being washed away by the pounding rain and when I looked into his eyes, I knew he was telling me the truth. He'd never been able to hide from me and just like that, my anger faded away.  
' What did he say? That he saw us?' My brother saw his chance and seized it – as usual.  
I snorted and turned my head away making him release me.   
'Think about it, baby brother. How could he...?  
I stared up at him quizzically and snorted. He carried on. 'I would never...'  
'Better not be thinkin' about it.' I snarled as we got up and dusted ourselves off. Too late – now we were muddy and filthy as well as covered in blood, clothes torn too thanks to our scuffle.  
I finally settled on muttering 'Asshole' under my breath as we got back into the truck. Dawn was breaking and I felt nervous on the road.  
'What the fuck we doin', bro?'  
'We need to take the road again. Ain't nobody gonna believe us.'


	33. Chapter 33

i.

Daryl

When my brother said that we were going to run away again, I lost it.  
'No!' I yelled and screeched the truck to a halt in a convenient layby that just happened to be there. 'Ain't leavin' again – got a life here – job, family – Carol's kinda like family.' I hissed at his derisive snort.  
'Daryl...' He started. 'We can start somewhere else...plenty of fish in the sea, baby brother. Why do ya wanna go and saddle yaself down with a kid at your age anyway?'  
'Fuck you! Ya such a fuckin' hypocrite. What about all that stuff ya said about facin' up to responsibility and bein' a man?'  
He grabbed me and shook me. 'Think! Ya really gonna risk everythin' for bit of pussy?'  
'Get off me!' I jerked away from him in anger. 'Ain't jus' any bit of pussy – it's my kid too. Besides, I ...I ...love her!' I blurted out, immediately embarrassed.  
He chuckled mockingly at that and I wanted to kill him. 'Ya 18 – what the hell do ya know about love or life?'  
'Enough.' I snarled and he knew what I was talking about. 'Fuck off! Don't need ya!' I stormed out of the truck and slammed the cab door behind me.  
I strode off as quickly as I could to get away from him but he quickly got out and followed me into the long grass at the side of the road. It was corn – I thought - but I wasn't really looking. I knew he hadn't bothered to take the keys – his only thought was for his me, he hadn't even thought of someone driving away with our only form of transport. When I had to get to the hospital.  
I quickened my pace, trying to get ahead and away from him as he kept calling after me.  
Suddenly I heard a noise behind me as with unbelievable speed considering his limp, he caught up with me. We Dixons had learnt early how to shut out mere physical pain.  
'What the fuck ya want?' I wheeled on him, fists clenched at my sides. 'Told ya to leave me be!'  
'Leave ya be to be an idiot?' He grabbed hold of me and despite the pain, we were fighting but not punching – I guess we'd both had enough of that. Nevertheless, somehow he got me on the ground pinned under him. I struggled like an alley cat to try to escape, all to no avail when he suddenly grabbed me and pulled my head onto his lap.  
'Fuck off! Don't touch me – let me go!' I yelled, batting back his hands but I was already weakening.  
'Sh...sh...' His fingers started moving in my hair and I could never resist him for long when he did that and felt myself relax and go limp.  
I fuckin' hate ya sometimes, Merle!' I growled against his legs, fisting the cheap material of his khaki print pants making him chuckle with amusement. Especially as I started to lose control now as the sobs of ...I don't know what...It couldn't have been relief... but how could I be with Barry on the loose?  
'Sh...Go ahead and give it me if that's how ya feel.'  
'Hate ya...hate ya...' But now I was weeping into his lap just like a fucking baby as I lost all control.  
I sensed him smile, not even letting up stroking me. Like he used to all the time right after he'd found me and Dad together that time.  
'We won't go if you don't want to. But do you know what you're riskin' stayin' here!'  
I looked up, still with the stubborn tears running down my face and I wiped them away furiously.  
'Yeah? So? I didn't kill him. There's not even a blood trail...'  
'Sh...sh...' He cradled me there on that down-trodden patch of corn. I could smell it now – had noticed it properly for the first time.  
'Merle?' I wiped my eyes impatiently. ' Did ya...were ya...really cryin'...over...me?' I had deliberately tried to look as dead as possible and knew that my brother had been convinced by my act when I heard the hitch in his breathing when he saw me.  
He looked down and I couldn't read his expression but if I hadn't know any better – I thought my big bad brother was embarrassed. 'What do ya think? ...Had to distract the bastard and give you a chance.' But he looked away as he said it, unable to meet my eyes. 'Knew the sick fuck would get his panties wet at seeing a Dixon break down.'  
'But couldn't ya have thought of another way to distract him?'  
His gaze evaded my questioning look before he bent down to kiss the top of my head. He mumbled something that I couldn't quite hear.  
The next thing I knew, he had grabbed hold of me suddenly with a urgent roughness. 'We even?'  
'What?' I was confused.  
'I said...are you and me OK now?' He shook me and eye-balling me. His hungry gaze was so intense , I wanted to drop my eyes. But I didn't and it hit me then that he needed me – if not more than I needed him. He didn't have any other family after all.  
The penny finally dropped and I realised with a jolt that he was asking me if I finally forgave him. Not for Dad's death – and the way my big brother had made him suffer before he died this time but for touching something that was mine.  
'Yeah...' I muttered. 'Yeah...but if ya ever do somethin' like that ever again, - betray me - we're finished. Hear me!' I was surprised at the aggressive snarl in my voice. 'First thing ya can do – is drive me to the hospital.' I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 'It'll be visiting hours soon.'  
I was right – it 7.40. I could go and visit Mira at 8. They woke up patients like her early there.  
'OK. ' He agreed without a fight, no doubt sensing that our truce and my forgiveness were both fragile things. I got off him and dusted myself down.  
'What we gonna tell her?' He asked and the fact that 'we' were back didn't escape me.  
…

ii  
Daryl

Later she opened up her arms to me and I went to her eagerly and it felt like coming home. I guess in a way it was as I laid my ear on her belly to listen for the heartbeat of my child. She was crying herself in shock when she'd seen my bruises – not realising that they were nothing. She smoothed back my hair, just relieved that I was OK and I didn't even ask her if she was or if Barry had done to her what he had threatened. Or hurt her in any other way. 'What happened? Are you OK?'  
She asked me. 'It was Barry...He kept me held up for a few days but Merle came and we sent him off with a warning. He ain't gonna be botherin' us no more.' I deliberately kept my voice light to make little of it.  
She looked doubtful but didn't question me, apparently my word and my brother's – as he nodded was enough to convince her that she was really safe. Didn't even say we should call the police – like us, she didn't see the point – we couldn't give away what I'd done.  
Later, when it was all over, I would mentally kick former self as I was then for being such a naïve idiot. My brother too. As if Barry would take a beating like that and just let it go. He was obsessed with Mira – thought that she was his and he'd want revenge for the humiliation I'd heaped on him.  
I shot up off her when she gave a quick gasp of pain and winced.  
'What is it?' I asked, so clueless. 'Can I get help here?'  
I still hadn't even asked her what had happened between her and Barry...hadn't even considered it.  
I was still selfish...still a kid and I didn't know if I was ready to be a father. Yet Merle had pointed out that our parents were the same age when they'd got hitched and he'd come along soon after.

18 was more than old enough to be a man.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A totally Daryl POV...He's still haunted by his past and there's still Barry running around loose – apparently not dead. What's he up to? Hope the birth details sound realistic...to be honest they freak me out and I'm not sure about them...please forgive any mistakes, ha ha. Enjoy!

'I need help in here!' I repeated with my around her shoulders, this time hearing the pussy panic rising in my voice. 'Fuckin' hell!' I snarled. Merle had been hovering by the door – as if he wasn't sure if he should come in or not - if he would be intruding. He ran out and shouted my request – minus the swearing. I looked at Mira and took her hand as she groaned and her face twinged in pain.  
'Is the baby comin'?' We'd barely been reunited for five minutes and I hadn't even asked about the baby. She'd been fine although a passing nurse in the corridor who had seen me go into the room had told me that her waters had broke. I guessed Carol had used her influence to get us a private room – the maternity ward was brand-new. So we knew it was going to happen soon.  
'I'm OK...I'm OK.' She looked at me and smiled but even I could see the fear in her eyes but she was bravely trying to hide it.  
'It'll be worth it. Does it still hurt?' I asked as she seemed to relax.  
'Not now but ah...ah...now it does!' She moaned and squeezed my hand again.  
'About time!' I couldn't help snarling at the midwife's fat backside as she came waltzing in. Mira gave me a warning look while Merle sniggered.  
His snigger grew even wider when I stupidly asked, 'Is it coming now?'  
'She!' Mira hissed at me while the woman turned around in surprise to look at me from where she was checking my girlfriend's pulse and looked under her gown between her legs. Not even reacting to the scars she must have seen littered all over her arms and legs that I knew were there. I guessed that she must have seen them before.  
'Her contractions were coming every 20 mins but now they're getting more painful and closer together but I think it will be at least two hours – first ones usually take longer.' The midwife rang the bell on the side-table.   
'Two hours!' We both exclaimed in horror comically at the same time while Merle smirked and calmly leant back against the wall. Smug bastard thought he knew it all making me want to punch his lights out. It wasn't even like he had any kids – well not any he knew about.   
'Can't ya give her an injection for the pain or somethin'?' I almost screamed at her and felt my brother lean forward and squeeze my shoulder.  
She looked at her watch until Mira hissed again and nearly crushed my hand in hers.   
'An epidural? I can...but just got to wait for the doctor to come and give the go-ahead. It's her first time and there...she coughed nervously...might be complications.' Mira stared at her.  
'What do you mean?' I snapped and Merle moved his hand from shoulder to put it around me. I barely spared him a glance when I saw the big woman's gaze slide away from me. 'You'll have to ask the doctor...I don't think there will be a problem but we are careful with first- time mothers.  
You the father?' She asked me and I nodded. 'And who's that?' She glanced at Merle with obvious distrust. Without looking, I sensed him smirking at her as he tightened his hold around me.  
'My brother.'   
'You don't look alike. Do ya want him here too, honey?' She turned to Mira. It was clear that the woman was uncomfortable and trying to get rid of him.  
'No!' She screamed at another contraction. 'I mean...sorry...,Merle but I don't want ya to see me like this, OK! Come back when it's over.'  
Merle waved and left, not taking it to heart. I loved that about him although other times this quality in him drove me crazy. 'I'll be waitin' outside...might grab a beer first – celebrate early, huh, baby brother?'He chuckled and we both rolled our eyes at the same time before Mira couldn't hold back a scream at the next wave of pain. I kissed her damp forehead and smoothed the sweaty strands of hair back from her head.  
'Breathe.' I urged just like we'd read in the books from the library. Two minutes later the doctor came bustling in. A middle-aged fair-headed woman who checked Mira out much in the same way as the midwife before she nodded at her. I didn't know why she was there except that she was apparently qualified enough to administer the painkilling injection. I thought nurses could do that but I think the doctor I swear that my girlfriend was in so much pain at that point that she was lucky she kept both her eyes. She was digging her nails into my hand and saying words that I'd never heard her say out loud before – foul words that Merle used constantly when it was just us two but not any I thought she even knew. I guess life on the street had taught her a lot.  
Luckily the nurse was wrong...less than an hour later our baby slid out covered in blood. I wasn't squeamish by any means – had hunted and killed animals before skinning them for food and clothes with my father and brother when I was younger. However, this pain and blood from childhood fazed me. Yet when I saw my baby daughter silent - Mira had been right all along even though we'd refused to know - with the cord still attached to her belly, I felt a thrill of terror pass through me. Even so, it was more what she represented – a tiny life that I could fuck up and ruin before it had even started if I wasn't careful ...if the Dixon curse hadn't spared me. I drew in a shuddering breath.   
'Why ain't she breathin?' I roared unable to control my feelings. 'What's wrong with her?' Mira didn't react - she'd slumped back against the pillows with her eyes half-closed after I'd got up off the bed. It seemed like she had only passed out in exhaustion – I hoped that was all it was.  
'She'll be OK. Just needs a slap to make her start, that's all.' The efficient busy-body holding my baby told me calmly. Before she picked up my child and slapped her back. Hard. Yet this action was rewarded with what sounded like a shrill cry of outrage and I felt a surge of pride mixed with the rage at this because it seemed my daughter had the Dixon genes after all.   
'What the fuck ya doin', bitch? Ya hurtin' her!' I rounded on her immediately, fists clenched at my sides. Damn it – I'd never hit a female in my life before but I'd make an exception for this cow as I prepared to snatch my daughter back from her. She must have sensed my thoughts because her cool and collected mask slipped a little as she stepped back despite herself.  
'Daryl...' Mira's eyes were fluttering. 'Sh...It's OK.' She looked weak and exhausted as she stretched out her hands slowly to the sound of our baby's cries. 'Give her to me.' She ordered her as the woman put the baby down on her belly and she put her arms slackly around her.  
'Sorry.' I mumbled at the woman as she started to cut the cord and tie it off as if I wasn't there. I watched with fascination as she put a peg on the part that was left sticking out from the baby's belly-button. I wondered if it hurt them both but apparently not.  
'That's OK.' She replied good-naturedly. 'Things can get heated in situations like these... I had to do it to make her breathe. Don't worry, I don't take these things personally.'  
The midwife had gone by this time after she'd helped with the delivery.  
'Is it normal for there to be so much blood?' I pressed her, looking down at the bloody sheets anxiously.  
'It's completely normal.' The doctor followed my eyes. 'I'll send in a nurse to clean your wife up and change the bed.'   
Mira looked up at me   
'Shit! I forgot Merle!' I started to run out the door to find my brother. Maybe he was downstairs in the waiting-room. Or not – 'celebrating' in some bar somewhere before he even knew that Mira and the baby were OK. That sounded like him ...any excuse to load up on booze.  
'Wait – I don't want him to see me like this. Let them give me a wash first.'  
'Fine.' I sat on the edge of the bed while the doctor carried out final checks on them both.  
'Mother and baby are both doing well.' She announced and filled in the chart at the bottom of the bed before she made her leave.  
'Thanks.' I said, not liking how that word left my mouth sounding more like a growl.   
'Daryl...' Mira looked up at me from where she was holding our baby. The kid was already snuggling into her chest and I marvelled at how easy they made bonding look. 'Don't you want to hold her?'  
'No...it's OK. Let her sleep.' I wrung my hands, feeling nervous and reluctant to hold my own child for the first time for some reason. 'I'll wait 'til she's all cleaned-up.'  
'Daryl...' She was insistent. 'My arms are gettin' tired.'  
'Still...'  
'Daryl!' She insisted. 'You won't hurt her, I promise. Look...' She wrapped her up in the baby blanket that the nurse had thoughtfully brought in before, getting it smeared with blood. 'She wants to see you.'  
'OK.' I didn't really believe that but I reached forward and all the time I was feeling terrified that I might drop her on her head and took the baby into my arms.   
'There...nothin' in it.' She mumbled and I could tell that she was about ready to fall asleep again.  
Meanwhile, I looked down at my daughter, shifting her carefully into my arms. Her eyes were closed but I liked to think that she did know who I was. Anyway, she didn't cry so she couldn't hate me already at least. Fuck knows, I'd hated my own father. I shuddered at the thought of him, telling myself that things hadn't started out that way. It was only later on that he'd turned into a monster and the worst of it? Me and Merle would never know why. Part of me still believed that it was my fault – something I did even though I'd been told differently.  
'See? You're a natural.' Her mother said before her head hit the pillow and job done, she slipped back into dreamland.  
'Hi there.' I whispered at the delicate bundle I was holding in my arms. My eyes teared up as the waves of protectiveness and possessiveness swept over me for the little person I had helped to create. She's mine was one of the primal thoughts that came to me as I held her in my arms for the first time. Second one was – I would fucking kill anyone who threatened her or tried to hurt her. I mean not just maim or put in hospital. Kill. Was this what Merle had felt when he killed Dad just for what he was doing to me? I had a feeling that it was pretty similar even if it wasn't exactly the same.  
'I'm ya Daddy.' I continued.   
I couldn't say for sure but I could swear that she smiled. Merle would no doubt have said that it was merely reflex -that she didn't really know who we were. After all, she couldn't even see yet. I held her firmly with one hand against my chest as I wiped away the tears from eyes. For once they didn't involve feelings of terror, pain, disgust or shame. This was a different kind of fear for the future mixed with joy that I wouldn't get it right with her.  
'Wonder what colour eyes ya have.' I mused as I touched her nose lightly with the tip of my finger. 'Wish I could see. Dixon blue or ya Momma's? Never mind, ya got ya Momma's nose for sure, anyway.' I chuckled as I examined her tiny cute snub-nose.   
But then it seemed like I could hear the bastard's voice in my head just like he hadn't really died after all. ' Stop fuckin' cryin'. (He'd always say this even when I wasn't. Last thing I ever wanted to do was show weakness in front of that bastard but at times he was really cruel and I couldn't help it. Usually, it was more what he said than what he did even though that was bad enough.  
'I ain't! Nothin' ya could do could ever make me!'  
'Ya sure about that, son? Ya like it rough, huh? Daddy can do that for ya if ya like.'  
'Fuck ya!'  
He chuckled. 'You'll never forget me, even when I'm dead. 'Cos ya got my marks on ya...Even if ya get over this by some miracle enough to fuck a woman one day and have kids yaself...ya'll wanna do this to them.'  
I had fought like an alley-cat as he slid into me but I couldn't stop him. Could never stop him doing what the fuck he wanted to me.  
'Don't judge everyone by yaself! No I won't!' I screamed back. 'Ain't no sick pervert like ya, neither!'  
'Yeah, yeah, ya will.' He crooned in my ear as he played with my hair and I flinched away. Just ike he used to innocently do when I was a lot younger. 'Ya don't know it yet but ya will be.' He grabbed my hair then and yanked it back but still he didn't move. Instead of feeling relief at the brief reprieve, I felt sick with dread. Bastard could control himself when he wanted to and that somehow made it all worse. Meant it wasn't him just losing it out of lust or whatever.  
'It's in ya now...'cos I've ruined ya. You'll always remember this...that I was ya first. I was the one who took ya innocence and ya won't be able to stop yaself!' He still considerately held back from thrusting while he taunted me. Drawing out the torture – he knew how much I dreaded it, hated feeling him inside me.  
That was apart from the fucking pain, of course that often lasted for days after...even if he didn't touch me for a while like after a mega fuckathon with me, for example, or when he drank himself into a coma for a couple of days. Most times like then, I wished the bastard would drink himself to death.  
And the blood. Don't forget the blood afterwards.  
'Fuck ya! I ain't like ya...never gonna be like ya!' I screamed back, my sense of outrage taking over.  
'Ya told me ya liked it rough.' He chuckled before he started thrusting inside me as hard as he could. Drawing back so that he almost slid out of me, probably to tease me with false hope before he slammed his way back inside me.  
'N...No! Ain't true!' I hissed, shaking my head. Felt like I was being ripped apart and I could feel everything inside me tearing me.   
'Please, Dad...jus' stop!' I pleaded but I still refused to cry, just gritted my teeth against the pain and grunted as I tried to take it each time. But suddenly the pain disappeared and I could no longer feel him on top of me, pinning me down with his heavy body. Or his cock inside me, thank God.  
I came back to myself and looked frantically down at my arms. Where the fuck had I put the baby while I was having my jolly little flashback of Dad? Still happened sometimes – not often now or as much as before when I'd find myself back in the past just like it happened, believing that I was really there with him. Could even feel his cock inside me, his hands groping me all over. The pain was like it had been then...even worse if that was possible but I couldn't be sure. The memory played tricks on you.   
I sighed with relief when I heard her cry. 'Sorry.' I mumbled across at her knowing that she couldn't understand me. 'Daddy jus' ...(how the hell could I explain what had happened?) He's OK now. Everythin's gonna be OK now.'  
The last sentence was more to reassure me than her. Still, I was relieved to see that somehow I had crossed the room and put her in the crib by Mira's bed...She was still asleep of course, oblivious to it all. Fuck me, I couldn't remember doing it just before I had my little trip to Crazy Town. Thank God no-one had been around to see – I had flashes of being dragged off by men in white-coats. But I knew that I wasn't actually crazy – the shrink in the kiddie slammer had told me that it was just my mind trying to work through the trauma. She's explained to me what that was...that the things my own father had done to me – especially the sexual abuse – that's what she called it (but I didn't like her calling it that either) had caused it. I thought I was pretty tough and what she said made me bristle. Had made me feel like a victim because everyone knew only that stuff happened to women and girls so how had it happened to me? I should never have told her but she wore me down and in the end it had been a relief. To have someone else than Merle put their arm around me and tell me it wasn't my fault. That none of it was. When he had never been touch-feely before ('huggin' and kissin' is for fags not for Dixons and what ya do with girls so that they go to bed with you'). Not that he had said as much – in the beginning, he'd just hold me and stroke my hair, even my back sometimes but I knew that was what he was telling me even if he didn't use words. He could never find the right ones – neither of us could when it came to Dad so it was better to say nothing. Still, it hadn't mattered because I knew what he was trying to say. And I'd needed it back then when I was still plagued with nightmares almost every night for months after. Besides - him seeing me being Dad's bitch and him treating me no better than the lowest, dirtiest whore must have been the shock of his life. Naturally, it had robbed him of the words to describe what he had witnessed and I had never thought much about what it must have looked like from his side.

Fuck that. Fuck the past.  
Fuck trauma.  
I'm in the here and now. Bastard can't do nothing to hurt me now. I just had to remember that.  
'Shut the fuck up! I'll never be like ya...never, NEVER! I'd never do what you did to my own kids! Ya fuckin' dead so get the fuck outta my head! Merle killed ya!' I was up against the wall, clutching myself and shaking my head to try and get my dead father out of it.  
'Merle killed who?' A voice asked behind me and I nearly jumped out of my skin but luckily she'd only caught the tail-end of my insane ranting to myself.  
It was the nurse. I immediately straightened up and tried to act normal.  
'The dog.' I mumbled not looking at her, quickly covering up with this lame excuse. Unlike my brother, I could never lie convincingly while the lies just seemed to trip off his tongue.  
'He ran it over when he was drunk, the idiot!'  
Cursing myself for being so stupid. That I'd nearly given the game away was obvious in the funny look she gave me. I'd nearly let slip what we did even if the evidence was long gone by now.  
'Careful how ya act around her – ya upsettin' her.'  
It was true. The kid was getting ready to bawl with her eyes scrunched up close and fists clenched by her sides.  
'Sorry.'  
She smiled as she took her from me and rubbed my back briefly with one hand. She only meant to reassure me for sure but even so, I flinched and jumped back nearly half a mile at the unexpected physical contact.   
Great. Now she'll think I'm a nut job with one sandwich short of a picnic for sure even she didn't appear to notice my unusual reaction because people who knew me knew that apart from close family, I didn't appreciate being touched – at least not without warning. Or being asked. However, she didn't blink - was probably used it all the time. One not fit to raise a child. What about Mira's cutting? They had obviously seen her scars before or they knew about her self-harming and what did Merle say about not attracting attention to ourselves? Even if it did look like we'd got away with hiding Dad's body, they could still investigate...Bring down more shit onto us...I'd been in jail after all and I was still technically a minor. Mira too.  
I shook my head to try to clear it while images of social workers invading our home and vetting us – examining every tiny part of our daily lives and routines...maybe even forcing us to see shrinks...  
I shuddered because I couldn't bear talking about Dad and the things he did to us again.  
Fuck that. Loads of people got pregnant at our ages. Married even. I took deep shaky breaths, struggling to control my breathing. Besides, we both had jobs. Somewhere to live.That made me think of Carol -how she'd been left in the lurch.   
Shit! Did we still have our jobs? Had Mira covered for me while I was gone?  
I looked over at her sleeping, not even waking when the nurse began to sponge her down and change her gown and the bed-sheets after she'd washed the baby and placed her gently in the crib.   
It had all happened so fast – we hadn't had time to talk and get our stories straight...because of fuckin' Barry. I still didn't know what had happened to her – how far the bastard had gone with his threats...if he'd hurt her. Not knowing and the lack of knowledge was killing me.  
That brought me back to thinking of him again. Apparently, I hadn't killed him or he had been rescued. That meant he was still out there and still a threat. If he had really survived my frenzied attack ...what was he planning to do?  
That meant Mira and now our baby were still in danger from the sick fuck.   
I pushed these thoughts aside. Focused on the here and now because if he had gone to the police, wouldn't we have been arrested by now?  
What if me and Merle had been sensible and just gone to the cops and fessed up? Told them everything and I mean everything the bastard had done and that we were only defending ourselves.  
No – that wouldn't have worked. That old Dixon distrust of the cops reared its ugly head because they never believed rednecks like us.  
Was this what it was always going to be like? Seemed like we were just reaching for happiness only to have it snatched away again. I was sick of trying to build ourselves up again only to have something happen to us and destroy everything again.  
But then there was our daughter. She was OK!   
'Don't she need feedin'? I asked the nurse more to distract myself than anything.  
She turned around to glance at me. 'Not yet …, don't you worry, sweetheart. She'll let you know when she's hungry. Right now, she wants to sleep jus' like her Momma and she'll probably wake up when she does...you'd be surprised at how in sync mother and baby can be.'  
'Uh...OK.' I agreed reluctantly.  
'Doc's gonna come back and have a look at both of them but I don't think there's anythin' to worry about. How about ya go home and get some rest? Think about namin' her, maybe? You look exhausted too, like you've been up all night. Workin'?'  
I wish. 'Somethin' like that.' I deflected her, thinking she wouldn't believe me in a million years if I told her the truth.  
Shit. Carol! Did she know Mira was in hospital? She'd be worried sick otherwise. Maybe Mira had told her or she'd guessed. I just didn't know anything! And where the fuck was my brother? I rubbed my eyes as a wave of tiredness swept over me, tempted to take her advice and find Merle along the way. I could do with a drink and talking stuff over with him. First thing I would do though when I got back was go and see Carol and explain things. Beg for my job back if I had to. Should I tell her the truth about Barry?  
And what was I going to do about that psycho? Surely he wouldn't dare come to the hospital? Almost not knowing what had happened to him and how he'd got away with his injuries was almost as bad as knowing I'd killed him. I didn't think I would be feeling guilty if I had – people could think what they wanted about that. I didn't care. Merle sure hadn't exactly beaten himself up for killing Dad or the way he'd punished him beforehand. Had never looked back, as far as I could tell.  
I guess some crimes were just plain unforgiveable.

 

 

 

 

 

He was watching me with a mingle expression of suspicion and concern as I bathed the baby. We hadn't decided on names yet but I'd secretly decided on Louise – the name of my mother's mother in my head. Just had to get him to agree.  
'What's wrong?' I tried again.  
He said nothing but motioned me to give him our daughter. I froze in the frigid silence that rose up between us – only broken by her warmth. When he cradled her to his chest and gave a gentle smile as he gazed down on her, the icy, stern expression seemed to melt but immediately returned when he caught my eye.   
I'd had enough of this and without a word, I gave him my back and stormed off back to the bedroom. Sure our fight would continue there later.  
I clenched my fists and fought the tears as I threw myself on our bed. Because how long was he going to silently blame me for something that hadn't been my fault?  
He did blame me – I saw it in his eyes. Every day since my stepfather had kidnapped him. But I couldn't tell him the truth – I just couldn't. I could barely remember it myself.  
With Barry,it had just been like a dream. A nightmare made of my worst childhood memories. I'd slipped into old patterns of behaviour even as I hated myself for it. But it had been to try and stop him from inflicting more damage on me – and most importantly, the baby. I was sure Daryl didn't know about that.   
I'd been protecting Louise – not even thinking about myselr.

No – I couldn't lie to myself even I avoided telling the Dixons. I'd acted like a whore. Betrayed Daryl without a thought – only responded by instinct. Then Merle had found me...that was a blank....but I'd woken up with his arms around me in bed. But we were fully clothed and he was lying on the covers while I was under them with the familiar, stinging pain of new slashes on my legs and even on my pregnant stomach.  
Ignoring my own pain, I'd gasped in horror to shove Merle off me and pull up my towel to examine my belly-terrified that I'd hurt the baby. Because this time my selfish need to self-harm wouldn't   
just affect me but the new life growing inside me.  
Merle had tried to reassure me but I'd ordered him out of the room. He swore nothing had happened between us ...only that he'd found me in some kind of zombie-like doze, slashing my self and about to stab myself in belly. Luckily, he was able to stop me but I'd hurt myself pretty bad. He'd got me in the bath...No, he hadn't looked. What did he take me for? I was marrying his brother in a few weeks...having his child.   
I had nodded, chosen to believe him. Besides, something told me that he was telling the truth and he wasn't really the asshole he liked to pretend to be.  
Where are my clothes? I had demanded.  
He looked back with such genuine wide-eyed innocence that I didn't associate with such a man lof the world ike Daryl's brother that made him look like him for a moment. Reminding me that they were related and Merle must have some of Daryl in him just like vice-versa.  
stomach and legs sore from new slashes. Back then, I couldn't even remember what had happened but it came back to me slowly.  
I shuddered at the memories. Self-hatred and self-loathing mixed up with frustration at how weak I'd been. After all,what kind of mother would try to   
Had Merle really not told Daryl? He swore to me in secret that he would never betray my secret but right now it seemed that either he had, after all or somehow Daryl knew anyway.   
Had sensed it.   
I'd tried to kill his baby. I knew that if he knew for sure – he would probably kill me.  
Or more likely, it would kill his love for me.  
Both were the same to me.   
Merle had come round once when Daryl was working on his shift. Hugged me cautiously – opening his arms first to give me a choice. I'd let him since I was getting precious little affection from his brother and it felt nice.   
'Do you blame me?' I didn't beat around the bush but he looked confused as he drew back.  
'What for?' He kept his voice light but he knew what I was talking about.  
'About...about what I tried to do...the baby....when I was hurtin' myself .'  
'Don't ever talk about that ...you're a good mother now. Ain't ya fault....ya were attacked! Wished we'd killed the bastard...' He muttered under his breath but still, I heard. ' Outta ya mind...' He continued.  
'Still...that makes me sick, doesn't it? Evil and unfit to be anybody's mother. A basket-case with the scars to prove it.'  
Right on cue as if she'd heard what I'd said and had understood, Louise started to bawl from the cot in our bedrooom.  
I sighed as I got up from the sofa where I'd sunk down into the cushions. 'See? It's like she knows...what I tried to do to her...'  
'Don't worry. I'll get her.' He leapt up and ran up the stairs two at a time, his heavy workboots thumping on the carpet. I knew he loved Louise but right then, it seemed like an excuse to get away from the unbearable heavy atmosphere in the room.   
And away from me.   
A few seconds later and I could hear him crooning to her and just like that, she stopped.   
He reappeared a few moments later, carrying her in his arms. Who would have thought the oldest and most obnoxious of the Dixon brothers would have the magic touch with kids? Got me thinking that maybe he had been the one to take care of Daryl.  
'Now, now...It's OK...Uncle Merle's got ya.' He soothed as he passed her back to me.   
Right on cue, she started bawling and I couldn't help but take it personally.  
'See?' I stared at him and handed her back to him. Immediately she got quiet when he started to bounce her up and down in his arms. 'She knows.'  
'Horsehit.' He growled back. 'Kid's jus' hungry, is all. Ain't her diaper – smelt that already.'  
I stared at him. Shocked that he thought to even check.  
'Well, what ya waitin' for? He snapped at me before turning to croon some more at my child. 'Who's hungry, baby?' His tone had gone through a sharp u-turn when he spoke to her...was all soft and gentle.  
'Go russle up her a bottle and while ya at it, girl, make me a sandwich and get me one of Daryl's cold beers outta that fridge.'  
'Asshole. Get it yourself.' I whispered but loud enough for him to hear and chuckle. Just as I intended and somehow, his that was only half-joking – just like I swear he was made me focus on what was important and get on with things. Naturally I brought all three things out but not all at the same time. He just grinned and put his food and drinking bottle to the side.  
I went back into the kitchen and brought out the warmed bottle and brought it out to him, sensing that he wanted to feed his niece for the first time.  
'You do it like this...' I was about to instruct him to hold her head and keep the bottle tilted up but he pushed my hands away and hoisted her up into his arms and snorted as he started to feed her perfectly.  
Infuriatingly, he was proved right and she was very hungry as she started to feed eagerly.  
I sat perched on the edge of the armchair and just watched them.  
'Get her burped before her Daddy comes home.' He ordered me and normally I would have resented being told what to do but with the fog that had been in my head all day, it was almost a relief having someone telling me what to do and in what order. Taking over, leaving me to just obey.


	35. Chapter 35

Daryl

When I said that I didn't tell Merle everything about what happened between me and Dad, that wasn't the whole truth. Besides, he knew more than I ever wanted him to know, apart from what he'd seen that day. Same one on which he killed him. 

It must have been the last night we stayed in that house while we waited for the bastard's body to dissolve. Maybe it had already - I couldn't quite remember, the details were fuzzy but what had disturbed me at the time was the cold efficiency with which my brother got rid of the corpse. Just like getting rid of a piece of annoying evidence. Like our father was no different from the drug stash I knew he kept inside his mattress in case the cops came knocking. Later on, he would tell me that he stopped being our father the first time he did it to me and gave up his right to mercy. Afterwards, he was just covering our tracks, just like it wasn't our Dad's body we were getting rid of. Not that I expected him to break down and cry about it - we were Dixons and Dixons didn't never cry.  
Well, that wasn't quite true either. Except me. I'd been doing that enough recently more than enough for the both of us. Like I was making up for all the times I'd managed to stubbornly hold back the tears when Dad was punishing me in ways he'd never punished my brother. Pain - just physical pain from his belt or his knife later I could deal with but the other shit he did was beyond any fucking pain. I hardly ever cried - didn't want to give him the satisfaction - well most of the time I had managed not to anyway. Except like that last time ...I shuddered when I remembered because the sick fuck had finally brought Mama into it...using my dead mother to taunt me while thrust inside me and pounded me into the mattress had tipped me over the edge. I wondered if doing that had made my big brother even more enraged or the fact he managed to make me break down. Merle must have been listening on the other side of the door in disbelief and disgust too no doubt before he burst in and put a stop to it. Still, he didn't blame me for crying during it or afterwards. Or slap me upside the head and shake me until my teeth rattled to make me stop acting like a pussy. The cheap ply board walls were thin - I knew that it and so did he. He'd been flaunting what a great sex machine he was practically in front of us - well, mainly Dad, of course. Showing him what a hot-blooded stud he was. I'd heard Merle in there screwing a girl or two or even three once. They'd sounded like they'd had fun, nothing like my only experience of being forced to have sex with my own father who was one sick and sadistic son- of - a bitch. I wondered what it would be like to have sex and enjoy it. If I'd ever be able to after Dad was through me if he ever was because they sure sounded like they were having fun. Of course I planned to leave as soon as I was old enough not for the cops to drag me back to him if they found me and I still had my big brother. I could never tell anyone what he did to me...everyone knew he beat the shit out of me regularly but people kept their mouths shut in our neighbourhood. Still even though I'd cried for Dad afterwards, Merle didn't hiss at me to man up and stop acting like a sissy baby. Or taunt me for being a pussy like he did when I was 10 and broke my arm from a bad fall out of a tree.   
"Suck it up, little Darlena, 'cos if he sees ya cryin' like a pussy, he's gonna break the other one to go with it. Then, whacha gonna do?' But then he'd brushed back my hair and had made me a makeshift splint. Had given me some whisky after to dull the pain some before he attached it. Quite a lot of the bottle and the pain disappeared and my nervousness. Later, Dad had laughed. 'That'll teach the dumb little shit.' But then he'd ruffled my hair. 'Teach ya to be more careful in future. 'Cos Dixons don't make stupid mistakes. 'Sides, we don't have medical insurance. What ya give him, Merle? Looks drunk as a skunk to me.' I giggled then and Dad scooped me up gently , carefully avoiding my injured arm and put me to bed. Dad's actions had been at odds with his tough words like they often were in the old days.  
I'd dried my tears and gritted my teeth. Tried to act like a Dixon just like they'd told me to.

Then, I was pretty sure he'd never seen me except at Mama's funeral. He'd let that go, so had Dad. Both stonily-faced ignored my pathetic sobs and stared straight ahead at the coffin as it was lowered down in the ground and a plump, motherly neighbour had put her arms around me. But after Merle had seen for himself what Dad was doing to me, he'd never scolded me for crying about it afterwards. Or called me names. Had even wrapped his arms around me, more gentle than he'd ever been with me and hugged me to him. Usually he didn't say anything but that didn't matter because I knew what he was saying with his hands.  
No- what worried me the most about Merle how he knew how to get rid of the body and roughly how long it would take to dissolve. What kind of acid we needed and where to get it. He'd just come back with it one day.  
Like he'd done it before. And not just once. Made me think about all the times he'd disappeared fir days - sometimes a week or more, leaving me to Dad's tender mercies. But I couldn't blame him – not really. He didn't know what was going on. How could he?  
It fucking freaked me out, if I was honest. Especially the way he'd tortured Dad and stabbed him in that place - where his dick was - what he'd used to punish me wasn't lost on me. I guess Dad wasn't the only one with a sadistic streak in our family.  
After he'd found out exactly how Dad was 'punishing' me, he never scolded me for losing control over my emotions after. Exact opposite in fact.   
The third day after he killed Dad and we were just hanging around at home waiting, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves. Killing time. If only I could have killed the memories in my head just as easily. I hadn't slept through a night for months but now I tossed and turned with nightmares that I could barely remember when I woke up. No prize for guessing what they were about – the night before, I'd actually felt his weight on top on me again and felt him stroke my cheek with his finger...before he shifted and got ready...whispering filthy shit in my ear all the while to get himself excited. Calling me all kinds of dirty names. I guess even someone as perverted as him needed something to go through with it. I think I yelled 'No!' and maybe even Merle heard next door but he never came in. I shuddered when I woke up with a start, heart hammering in my chest in panic until I realised I was safe. I'd never tell my big brother that I was being haunted by our father's ghost. Knew he would think I was crazy as batshit.  
Later that day, I came back from the store with our booze where he'd sent me after shoving cash into my hand – (his whisky – same shit Dad used to drink) and beers for him and me. Our cigarettes too...He was slumped out on the sofa and I could tell he'd been dozing. I guess torturing your father to death and getting rid of his body in the bath was exhausting work.   
Shocked and sickened as I had been at the time, I couldn't blame him. I'd forgiven him already for making Dad suffer like that. Whatever he'd done. Death must have seemed like a mercy after my big brother was through with him.  
'OK, baby brother?' He asked me, deliberately casually. Had he heard me crying last night? Of course, I'd tried to muffle the sounds with my pillow but his tone gave him away. He heard me being a little pussy, just like the dead bastard always said I was.  
'Fine.' I sullenly kicked the door behind me and threw him a can without meeting his eyes. I still felt embarrassed at the way he'd found us – I knew he'd never get that image out of his eyes. Me being Dad's whore. Him treating me like too.  
Still, he caught in it mid-air with a grin.  
I pinged my own open and sprawled out beside him, wincing at the pain that was still lingering three days after...Not least around my throat and the bruises all over me and around my asshole which still felt like it was stretched at breaking point. Every time I took a dump, it reminded me what my dear old Dad used to do to me...seemed even though he was dead, I was not free of him. Would I ever be? And it still hurt like a bitch to swallow. There was no point trying to cover them up – Thank Fuck they were already fading...but I heard people twitter behind my back. Me walking around looking bruised and battered was no surprise – but it was clear I'd received a really vicious beating. Worse - the shame of it was that who had given to me was an open secret. Even if maybe some people did suspect Merle, they knew our father was a violent drunk who used to take it out on both of us, until my brother got too big. He pretended not to notice of course, and both of us pretended to focus on the soccer game in front of us, looking at it on the TV screen but not watching or listening. When I knew and he knew what we were really thinking about. That went without saying.  
After the second can, I got up, feeling edgy and scratched my stomach. Like I needed a shower. My brother glanced at me from the corner of his eye and raised an eyebrow but he didn't comment. No doubt he guessed I was going for one of my endless showers of the day. Sometimes I found myself standing under it ten times in a single day and it was like I just couldn't stop myself. I could never have done this with the old man still alive but Merle didn't say anything. Not even to complain about the water bills.  
'Need a piss.' I said before I hurried up to the bathroom where I shuddered before I got undressed as quickly as I could. Luckily, my dead father's body was no longer in the bath although there was a nasty stain from the chemicals Merle had used to dissolve it. I knew neither of us would ever use that bathtub again, besides the the smell of the acid or whatever he'd used still lingered.   
I worried not for the first time that if they came after us, they'd know even if they couldn't find his bones that were now dissolving in the septic tank out in the yard.  
I guess it was the blood that did it...while I scrubbed myself raw, trying to get rid of his touch, the memory of his rough gropings, him touching me over every inch of my body...I shivered and suppressed a whimper.  
'Stop it!' I hissed at myself. 'Ya really are nothin' but a little pussy, don't deserve nothin' better!' I slapped myself hard and turned on the hose. Started scrubbing myself raw but when I started bleeding from back there again. I was horrified even though it had happened many times before...it wasn't anything that could shock me but it still did because thought it had stopped!  
'Fuck you.' I muttered to no-one in particular. 'Jus' fuckin' stop!' I screamed, feeling like I was losing control but the blood continued, spattering on the floor of the shower-stall. Like an accusation.  
'Fuckin' stop.' I was sobbing now in panic and humiliation, despite myself as I slid down the tiled wall and buried my head in my knees in despair. That got his attention – somehow he knew – I'd tried to be as quiet as a mouse not to get his attention and I heard him run up the stairs and bang on the door. Must have just been waiting for something like this to happen – me breaking down again.  
'Daryl? You OK?' The concern in his voice was obvious. I'd never heard him this close to panic before. Probably he thought I might do something stupid in my state of mind.  
'Go away!' I snarled but couldn't stop crying now. Just like a pussy. Like the girl he'd accused me of being so many times until I toughened up and didn't cry no more.   
He didn't reply but he didn't go away either. Before I knew it, he'd put all his body weight behind the door and with one shove, the crappy wood gave way. I was too shocked to react although I couldn't see him.   
'Daryl?' He ripped open the curtain, nearly tearing it off the rail. I cowered back instinctively, hating myself for it as I looked up at him from the floor, pathetically trying to cover myself up with my hands.  
'Don't look at me!' Too late because I'd already heard him hiss in shock. He hadn't seen everything two days ago. Did he also see the blood that was infuriatingly draining away too slowly? The bleeding was finally starting to slow down.  
I knew that nothing much escaped his hawk eyes and that he probably saw but he kept his eyes focused on me and ignored it, no doubt not wanting to add to my humiliation. Yet I couldn't be sure – I prayed that he hadn't seen.  
'What the fuck ya done to the door, dumbass? You fuckin' broke it!' I roared up at him, wiping my wet eyes furiously. Typically replacing my pain with anger and lashing out. I was also trying to change the subject and make him look at it. Better than looking at me.  
'Who the fuck cares? It was his door, his house – the fucker. Ain't like we're gonna stay here anyway.' He turned to look at me closely then. 'We can't not after....' He didn't finish the sentence but chucked me under the chin. 'What's wrong, baby brother?' The tone in his voice was almost crooning – he'd never been like this with me before and to be honest, it was freaking me the fuck out more than if had just slapped me hard and told me to toughen up.   
'Nothin'! I said leave me alone!' I screamed back before I turned my face to the wall that was mercifully cool and buried my burning face against it. Shame flushing it burning scarlet as I made sure cover myself in front of my brother with my hands between my legs. I knew I looked a mess - the bruises all over me, my battered face that still looked like I'd had a run-in with a truck even though the bruises were slowly fading. My ribs especially, even the marks from my father's hands on my hips where he'd been so rough and forceful with me. The fucking bite-marks on my shoulder and elsewhere, not to forget the red marks around my throat where the asshole had practically garotted me. Then again, I was ashamed for so many reasons. The tears were burning under my lids.   
But he didn't go. 'Come on, son.' He still kept his voice gentle and not sounding like him at all as he reached down to me and brushed my dripping hair back off my face, carefully avoiding touching the bruises on my face. Like I weighed nothing and talking at me as if he was so much older like our father's age. He was dripping wet but he didn't seem to care.  
'It's not that bad...can't be that bad...' He soothed. This was something new – he'd never been like this with me before. So gentle. Guess there hadn't been reason to be until now because I was a Dixon. 'Nothin' can be that bad.' He repeated. Lying to himself as well as to me but sounding more like he was trying to convince himself.  
I shook my head in confusion and struggled to keep him from seeing me naked again although until recently, we hadn't given a shit who saw what but now it seemed wrong and the shame was still burning me.  
'Stop that. It's OK.' Now there was a sharpness in his voice, warning me not to disobey.'Sh...I ain't lookin' at ya. Why the fuck would I? Ain't a fuckin' fag or a perve... not like him.' He reached over my head to turn off the shower and shook his head and tutted at me when I cringed back out of habit from growing up with our father. He'd had the same but for some reason, he didn't flinch or cringe half as much as I did. He used to laugh about it but right now he couldn't be further from humour.  
Next minute I knew I words set me off again, even though he really wasn't. I mean – looking at me or trying to sneak a quick peek. Wasn't anything he hadn't seen before anyway. Thanks to Dad. Or before that...Dixons weren't shy. After all, we were brothers and he didn't have anything I didn't have. Without warning, he reached down to hoist me up from under my armpits. 'Come here.'   
'Fuck you, Merle.' I sobbed. 'Lemme the fuck go.' I struggled but he insisted, yanking me up not so gently. I thought about fighting him – even if I only got one or two punches in before he overpowered me. I was still a skinny weakling compared to him and Dad but I did nothing. Just tried to grab the wall and drag my feet, forgetting all about being being naked in front of him.  
'Come here.' He raised his voice this time with a hint of impatience.   
'N...No! Get off me Merle!' Ignoring my protests as usual and I could see Dad in him – in the determination as he forced me out of the shower, dripping and shivering but not with cold. Because it was warm outside.   
'Calm the fuck down, said I ain't lookin' at you!' He hissed in my ear as I continued to fight him. 'Sh... he only grabbed a towel and dried me before he wrapped me up in it before he tied it around my waist. I tried to push him away because I wasn't having anyone touch me - not when I didn't want it. Never again.  
'Get off me! Can dry myself!' I snapped. 'Don't need ya treatin' me like a fuckin' baby!' He let me for a few seconds before he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the bathroom.  
'Come on.'  
'Fuck you!'   
He allowed me to furiously pat myself down with the other towel before he took me by the arm. Drawing me into my bedroom where he pulled us both down onto the bed, pinning me to him. Even though his T-shirt and the front of his jeans were soaking wet.  
'I ain't sayin' I feel sorry for ya. Jus' gotta suck it up and be a man 'bout it. Gettin' yaself in this state ain't gonna help ya none.' If he really believed that why did his voice crack? And why was his hand in my hair, touching me hesitantly at first before he got going. He couldn't be less like Dad if he tried. Maybe he was trying to make me forget the pervert's rough and usually painful gropings, replace the memory of them with him.  
He shook me gently. 'I mean...we're Dixons. We roll with the punches and get straight up again and ain't nothin' can keep us down, not ever. That's what we do.'  
'Fuck you. Don't need ya pity anyway!' I replied and shoved him off me because really, it was the last thing I'd ever want in the world. The pitying looks that Laura from school gave me in the local store made me bristle. I had merely glared at her and stubbornly not returned her greeting. Not for the first time, I wished we could just up and leave – go where no-one knew who we were or our father. Go someplace where once I'd healed up, I would be able to mingle with others without awkward questions or them pre-judging me because of my family and their reputation.  
'But what he did...it was sick...' He pulled me against him again. 'More than that - It was wrong.' He tightened his embrace.  
I rolled away from him because I couldn't look him in the face while I told him. 'He...he told me that I liked it...' I shuddered and risking his contempt, I continued, 'What he was doin'...that ya would hate me if you found out I was lettin' him... kill me and not him...but he was right...I did let him. I fuckin' let him!'  
He hissed in disbelief but didn't say anything. Apparently he was unable to reply.  
'I did, Merle! I let him 'cos I should have fought harder but he said he'd fuckin' kill me with the knife if I didn't!'  
Hardly able to believe the things I was saying – the details I was going into with my own brother when I'd vowed never to tell him anything. For his sake more than anything.  
'What?' He whispered. 'Ya didn't let him! He made you!'  
But I had broken down again and he pulled me to him unresisting now, tucking my head into his chest. Guess I was too broken.  
'He said what?' He almost yelled. 'Sick fuck jus' said that to stop you from tellin' anyone, know that, don't ya?'  
'Once ...he...he...made me...' But I couldn't finish my sentence. How to tell my big brother that our father had not only fucked me but threatened me to rip me open with his knife unless I made him believe that I liked it? After he slid the blade slowly up inside me?  
'What did he make ya do?' He growled and tightened his arms around me. Even so, I could tell that I was on dangerous ground. But not me – I knew that he had Dad here in front of us, he'd kill him all over again. In the same way. But like the coward I was, I changed my story but I didn't lie.   
When I didn't answer, he muttered, 'What did he do?' He sighed and stroked my arm.   
'What Daddy do?' He was so quiet that I could hardly hear him.  
'He...he made me...suck him off. He said it was all my fault...'  
'Jesus fucked!' He cried. 'But I guessed as much already. Saw what he was doin' to ya that time.'  
I started to weep into his chest while his fingers continued to brush through my hair.   
'Not ya fault.' He muttered into my ear. 'Not ya fault, not ya fault.' He kept repeating it like a mantra. Over and over with his hand moving over my hair. 'Ya couldn't stop him...big brute like that. Ya still jus' a kid.'  
He still hadn't ordered me to stop crying or called me a pussy. He let me let it out and stroked my hair for a while before he started to get all embarrassed. 'I need a fuckin' drink.' He got up abruptly and pushed me off him. 'Get dressed and come down stairs. Guess ya need one even more than me, don't ya little brother?'  
He left and went downstairs while I did as he told me. Ten minutes later I followed him like a zombie, mind blank, trying not to think of anything.  
Most of all, trying not to remember.  
'There ya are.' He motioned me over to the sofa and handed me a large glass of whiskey. Same one as he was drinking. 'Get that down ya and you'll soon feel all better.'  
I gulped it back and true, it burned my chest – the warmth spreading like a caress inside me.   
Making me relax. I sank down into the sofa, feeling a grin spread all over my face. Thoughts of my dead father far away for once.  
'Need a piss first.' He muttered as soon as I sat down. 'Back in a minute.'  
True to his word, he was back in a short time and I couldn't help but flinch back when I recognised Dad's glass. Complete with a sticker of two naked cartoon ladies with huge bosoms. Typical of Merle to like it – him and Dad had similar taste in everything.  
Merle twittered at my reaction, saw me staring at it and I stuck my fingers up at him.  
'That's my boy.' He ruffled my hair before he topped up Dad's glass and my own with J.D's and handed it back to me. Let me drink it more slowly this time.  
I was at the end of the couch, as far away as I could get from him. I didn't mean to...it was just hard to trust him. Hard to trust fucking anybody. But like typical Merle, he didn't take any notice of that and pulled me to him as soon as I had downed the second large measure of whisky despite my squawks of protest. Must have noticed that I was still trembling like crazy despite feeling calmer. Maybe my mind was but my body still certainly wasn't.  
'Come here.' He slurred. 'It's OK. Merle ain't gonna hurt ya. Not like he did.'  
'Fuck off.' I replied savagely, angry that he brought up again what that fucker did to me but by then his hands were in my hair and still I hadn't told him to get off. So he'd pulled my head down into his lap. I knew I should stop him but I couldn't bring myself to do it because him stroking my hair was kind of soothing. I could even feel the trembling slow down in my body. I knew he could stop the shakes when I freaked out....they only happened since Dad did his shit to me. Usually I could take any pain he dished out but the things he did to me with his dick were different. A whole other level. No wonder Merle didn't tell me to stop crying or man up like a Dixon since. He had one arm around me and with the one hand running through my hair.  
'Sh.' He whispered in my ear as he turned back to the baseball game on the TV but still he didn't stop stroking me. Neither of us were really watching it but the sound helped fill the silence.  
He grunted when he paused to reach for his drink, this time switching back to plain old beer. As soon as he took a swig, I felt his fingers running through my hair and he'd only stop to take another gulp. He carried on until he shoved me aside. 'Need a piss. Want a beer, baby brother?'  
'Yeah.' My breathing was back to normal and the trembling had stopped. Merle had that power over me.   
'OK. Be back in a minute.'  
He came back with a two chilled bottles. Popped them open and handed me one. After I drank it I laid my head back in his lap without being bid. Just like before he put one arm around me while the other moved through my hair. I was OK but right then, I guess I just needed the extra comfort and reassurance.  
To make the bad dreams go away. We watched the game like that until he nudged me to go get more beer out of the fridge or we needed to take a piss every now and then until it ran out. It was a pattern he would repeat at least until I hooked up with a girl.   
Until I got over shit.  
Now I was a father and I was fucking freaking out. What if the Dixon curse was passed on and I ended up doing what my old man did to my own kid? Fucking sick. I knew it was crazy thinking but I couldn't stop my mind going around in circles trying to find a way out.  
I shook my head to clear it of the memories.  
Never. I hissed to myself. 'Yeah – maybe I was shit scared about being a Daddy so young but I knew right from wrong.   
Besides, I had my big brother nearby. 

Most of all, I knew I was a good person. I looked down at my daughter cradled in my arms and felt a thrill of triumph. I pulled her closer to me.  
You tried to destroy me, ya sick fuck but I still survived. I thought at my dead father.  
Fuck you. Look at what I have.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I haven't updated this story for a while but I didn't intend to abandon it...just a lot happened inbetween – working and writing another story with a co-author...Check out Look but don't touch if you're interested...
> 
> So, Daryl's a father now at the tender age of 18. He got the family that his own Dad said he would never have...He's been through a lot and learnt a lot along the way and he's scared shitless that he will repeat his father's mistakes...But we know he could never do that, don't we?

i.  
Daryl

I held my baby daughter in my arms and was terrified while Mira was sleeping upstairs, she did that a lot these days.   
The responsibility – I could almost taste it and it scared me shitless – more than being in prison and fighting back, more than watching Merle torture Dad before he killed him. Even more that what that bastard used to do to me.  
Because what if I made a mistake? Fucked up? Turned into him?  
I shook my head.  
Would she like me? I trailed my forefinger gently down her cheek and I swear she smiled. But she was too young for that and I was kidding myself. Probably my Merle would say it was gas.   
Speak of the devil, he came into my living room and plopped himself down beside me, nearly dislodging us off the sofa.  
'Watch it!' I growled but he just grinned and ruffled my hair.  
'How's my little princess?' He crooned at her and leant over me to look at her face and closed eyes. 'She got a name yet?'   
I shook my head. 'We're still thinkin'.' I lied.  
'Ah...If you two don't hurry up, I can think of one...' He cooed obviously already in love with her and somehow that made me feel a little better. Before he put his arm around me, of course. He'd never touched me much before he saw what Dad was doing to me (Dixons didn't cuddle) and then he started doing it all the time. As if to make sure I was really there, safe.  
'You'll be OK.' He whispered to me. 'Don't worry. And if you're not, I'm here to help.'  
I nodded, grateful for his reassurance not matter how I pretended not to, I needed him.  
'Merle...I don't know what to do...' I admitted shamefacedly and turned away.  
'It'll come. Ya a natural...'  
'How is she?'  
I shook my head, not willing to tell him our problems.

….  
After Merle left to go back to his place and I put her down in her crib in our room. But she was restless.  
'Mira?' I shook her.   
'Wh....what?' She fluttered her eyelids.   
'You've been asleep all day....since 2.' I said. 'The baby...she needs feedin'.'  
She turned her back on me. 'No...'   
I lost my temper then when our daughter started to cry. 'Well if had tits with milk, I'd feed her myself but I don't! So you have to! You're her mother!'  
She turned back to me again, eyeing me blearily. 'You bastard. You know what he did to me!'  
'Yeah?' I knew I was being a Grade 1 Asshole but I'd had enough. It had been more than a week since her birth and our baby still didn't have a name and everytime was a struggle to get her mother to feed her. Worse – she   
I knew what Barry had done to her and even before then, I wasn't an idiot. But he'd captured me and tried to kill me too and didn't she see that she need to snap out of it? Take care of our daughter or at least look at her?  
Everytime I put her in her arms and made her feed her, it was like I was forcing something terrible on her and she handed her back to me as fast as she could.   
Making me feel like a real shit. Even my brother who probably sensed our problems didn't know the full extent of them.  
Worse, almost as bad as not wanting to touch our daughter was her not wanting me to touch her either. The doctor had warned me about this...she needed time to recover and I wasn't asking for much. But when I bent down to kiss her, she would turn her head away. I only tried to hold her hand and she would shake me off.  
Surely it wasn't normal? I knew what Barry had done to her and I was willing to give her time but it was like she hated me and our daughter.

I couldn't fix her or stop the worst from happening which it did.  
Our father was right.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I haven't worked on this for a while, been working on my main story that I'm writing with someone but I didn't forget about this story which clearly isn't finished yet. Sadly, it looks like there's more trouble on the horizon for the young family. Anyway, hope you still enjoy it x

Daryl

Everything was going to be OK. He kept telling himself. He had a secure job, a girlfriend, a house, a kid and his big brother nearby. What else could he want?  
But another sick fuck just like his Dad had managed to fuck up the little bit of happiness he'd managed to snatch. His girlfriend's stepfather had assaulted her and Daryl hadn't been there to protect her. Then he'd stupidly let him abduct him and hadn't even taken him out of the picture properly. Barry could be anywhere if he wasn't dead and the thought made him shiver. Especially when he told him he'd be back for their baby, especially if it was a girl. Still, they'd heard nothing on the news or from Mira's mother who you'd expect would be contact if the bastard had gone missing – not that they were on speaking terms.  
He was useless, couldn't even protect his family like a real man. On top of that, the nightmares that were really memories were back in full force but he didn't have his brother to help make them go away now. Mira was distant, knocked herself out with the sedatives and sleeping pills the doctor had given her and she rarely woke up. All of it made him as grouchy as hell and didn't help him have a bright outlook on the future.  
He was sometimes tempted to take some of hers but he never did because he knew that they weren't strong enough. Anyway, Merle could always get him some of those big blue pills – the ones he'd given him all that time ago – it was only about two years but to Daryl, it felt like 10.  
He was a real pussy. How many times had he woken up thinking he could feel his father's hands all over him again? Worse – still lingering at the back of his mind, his father's words silent were haunting him once more when he thought he'd done with that shit, telling him that he was nothing, was never going to amount to anything or be anyone. That he was only good enough to be used.  
Fuck knows why he'd started to do those things to him – it was like beating and burning and scarring him hadn't been enough for him anymore.  
Daryl sighed and turned over to wrap his arms around Mira and tried to breathe in her scent which always used to calm him down before. But even in her deep, drugged sleep she gave a little moan of protest and shook him off so he with a sigh of frustration, he turned over cursing himself. Was it always going to be this way? It was like she was punishing him for what Barry did. Worse than her rejection of him – for three weeks now since Barry happened she still wouldn't touch their daughter – their daughter – why didn't she have a name yet? He'd seen breasts leaking but he'd been the one feeding her from the bottle. (and occasionally Merle). The baby fretted and was restless as if she knew that her mother didn't want her and he hadn't had the heart to tell his brother. He thought he could bring her out of it.  
He was nothing like his old man, had made something of himself. Become a father at 18 – well, so had his Dad, he'd married his mother when she was barely legal and they'd had Merle.  
'Fuck you.' He snarled under his breath. He didn't want to think about that sick bastard or remember his touch. He shivered when he remembered that.  
With a sigh, he released Mira and went over to check on his daughter. She was also breathing softly.  
At least someone's getting some sleep, he mumbled to himself before he went downstairs. He still had that bag of blue pills – only a few left now that Merle used to give him when he was in a bad way, waking up and crying from the bad dreams of their Dad. He'd used them sparingly and they'd lasted this long.  
Not that he blamed his brother for drugging him. He'd been messed up back then he hadn't been able to sleep the whole night through without waking up shouting and crying, thinking that his father was on him again and hating himself for his weakness. No, he would have done the same if things had been reversed. Besides, they we on the run then. Wouldn't – couldn't – go to an ordinary doctor. What else was Merle supposed to have done?  
Daryl didn't dwell on the fact that he was starting to have night terrors about his Dad again just after his daughter had been born.  
….  
The next day, Mira woke up and breathed a sigh of relief to find herself alone. He hadn't tried to touch her.  
Then she heard him moving in the bathroom and the toilet flushed. She couldn't help fearing that one day when she woke up, he wouldn't be there. She did try to change and make an effort to connect with them but she always felt so damn tired all the time.The infant immediately started to fret but she sighed and put her pillow over her ears to drown out the cries. She let it go on for a while.  
That's when he burst in, shaving cream all over his jaw. 'What the hell's wrong with you?' He reached down in the crib to pick her up and she immediately stopped crying like she always did with him, another thing that just made her want to grit her teeth about them. 'She was cryin!' You just going to ignore her?'  
'Go away. I'm tired. Leave me alone.'  
'You're always fuckin' tired! What about her, hey? You gave birth to her? What about me?'  
But him yelling only made the baby cry again so he jigged her up and down and hushed her.  
'Yeah, that's what it boils down to.'  
'You ain't barely touched her since she was born! He ignored her outburst. She could tell that he was trying to keep his voice down but he couldn't keep the anger out of it.  
'Leave me alone.'  
'You think she doesn't know you don't love her? She needs her mother! I ain't enough!'  
'You know what he did!'  
'It ain't like he raped you! Why you actin' like this?' The vicious words were out of his mouth before he could take them back when he knew what being violated felt  
like from firsthand experience. Most guys didn't. When he knew he had many times in the past and she was still cutting because of it. He'd come across her in the shower a few days ago and dragged her out and tossed the blade away but she'd still screamed at him that she hated him. He knew she was still doing it when he wasn't there but he no longer acknowledged it. As far as he knew she was still cutting since Barry found her and attacked her.  
'You're a fuckin' asshole, you know that!'  
He said nothing but put their child back down carefully on her crib and there was a charged silence while he went and finished shaving and washed off the foam from his face.  
'Fine. I better take her and leave you alone then.' He announced coldly without looking at her.''We don't want to cramp your style anymore.' He got his small travel bag and began stuffing it full of clothes and other stuff. Enough to last a few days.  
Despite herself, she felt alarmed. 'Where ya goin'?'  
He was secretly pleased to see that she still gave a damn.'We're going out. Away from you like you so badly want.'She sat up then staring at them together. Looking like a self-contained unit. They didn't need her, she was just a spare wheel, she thought bitterly.  
Her mouth opened to tell them to stay and say the right things like she needed him, loved them both but no words came out.  
He huffed and dithered as if considering but when she remained silent, he went to the baby cupboard to pack extra diapers, bottle feed and baby clothes.  
'You going to your brother's?'  
'What the fuck do you care?' He snapped and she knew he was only keeping his voice down for the sake of their baby.  
His baby, she corrected herself.  
She was on the verge of telling him to stay but instead rolled over on her side.  
'Fine.' He said before he left. 'Don't know when we'll be back. Ain't like we got anythin' to come back to, anyway.'  
She didn't answer even though what he said stung and his chest hitched. But she couldn't make herself react, she was so damn tired.  
'Don't answer the door to anyone and keep it locked.' He couldn't help adding even though he knew it was unlikely that Barry had survived but he wasn't taking any chances. He had managed to move himself or his carcass had been moved somehow and when he and Merle went to look for it, they'd found nothing.  
She badly wanted to call them back but she couldn't. Even half got up on her elbow until she heard the front door slam and the moment of opportunity passed.  
Mira put the phone receiver off the hook before she lay back down again. The last thing she wanted was Carol calling or knocking on her door with persistant good-will.  
…  
Daryl hefted the heavy bag of baby supplies over his shoulderwhile holding his daughter in the other arm before he banged urgently on Merle's door. He knew that he wasn't his workday today. Daryl should have been working but Carol had given him some time off, even paid - no doubt sensing that they were having difficulties.  
'Merle!' He yelled as he banged on the door.  
'Hey up, baby brother.' He rubbed his eyes as he looked at him sleepily on his porch.  
Merle woke up then as he took his little brother in and didn't ask why.  
'Gotta tell ya this but ya look like shit, baby bro.'  
'You ain't got no-one there, have ya? Can we stay?' Daryl asked abruptly.  
Merle rolled his eyes. 'No, as a matter of fact. I know that's unusual for me...' He snapped sarcastically.  
He didn't get to finish as Daryl brushed rudely past him.  
'What's going on?' He asked him as he offered him a cold beer across from where he sat on the sofa. 'May I..?' He motioned with his hand.  
Daryl passed his daughter over while he swigged back the cool liquid gratefully.  
Merle cradled her against his chest and fancied that she was smiling up at him although he knew that it was probably just wind. 'Yeah, ya like that, don't ya? Ya like your Uncle Merle, huh?' He crooned at her. 'Hey, what do I call ya? Ya Mommy and Daddy ain't given ya a name yet so I might have to.'  
'We're gettin' round to it.' Daryl wasn't taking any of his digs.  
'But seriously, bro. What the fuck's wrong with you two? You shouldn't be here.' His eyes narrowed in concern not saying what was both on their minds. They hadn't heard anything about Barry but that didn't mean he wasn't still out there.  
'Can't I take my kid to visit my own brother sometimes?'  
Merle looked pointedly at the travel bag and baby supplies.  
'Is Mira OK? That cocksucker ain't been back botherin' her, has he? Any more news?'  
'Don't wanna talk about it.' Daryl snapped back but his voice cracked. 'And I don't ya talk like that in front of her!'  
Merle chuckled. 'Keep ya panties on, Darlena. Ain't like she can understand anyway and I ain't  
gonna try and make ya do anythin' ya don't want to do.' Merle replied mildly but his brother shivered. Knowing it was a reference to their late father.  
'Give her back to me, she needs feedin'.' He ordered abruptly and thrust out his arms.  
Merle frowned and whiffed her plump rump with a mild look of distaste before he chuckled. 'Better change her first, looks like she's just dropped a load. A big one, smells like.'  
Daryl glared at him before he took her and went to the bathroom upstairs to change her. Merle had got himself quite a nice house but it was small. Barely two storey but complete with a tiny kitchenette.  
When he came back, he put the diaper bag in the trash and went to warm up the bottle in the microwave. Daryl even continued to glare at his brother over his daughter's head while he held the bottle.  
A couple of hours later when she was lying down upstairs having a nap, Merle offered his brother the bottle of whiskey but Daryl shook his head.  
'Ain't like you to turn down good booze.' He teased.  
'Yeah? Well try bein' a father. Can't get all off your face when ya want once you have a kid to take care of.'  
Merle sniggered when secretly he was proud of him. But he knew things weren't right between him and Mira – hadn't been for a long time, in fact and he was determined to get to the bottom of things,  
if only for his brother's sake. The thought that he might have contributed to their problems by kissing her never occurred to him as he relfected that if anyone deserved some happiness in life, it was his sweet baby brother who'd been to hell and back.  
'Well, well, ya don't mind if I do?'  
Daryl shook his head while Merle lit a cigarette.  
'I take it you still smoke?'  
He nodded gratefully and pulled one out of the packet afte he tossed it to him.  
'You want another can?'  
He even smiled as he nodded this time and Merle knew he was softening.  
After the third one with no noise from upstairs, Merle tried again.  
'Tell me what's going on, little brother. It ain't right you two haven't even given her a name yet.'.  
'Won't let me touch her. Will hardly touch her, either.' Daryl suddenly blurted out after the booze had loosened his tongue. He'd even allowed himself a couple of small glasses after all not the usual half a bottle. Enough for his big brother to find out the reason behind his weepy red-rimmed eyes, paranoia brought on by exhaustion and pasty complexion.  
It's because of what he did to her when he found her, ain't it?'  
He nodded miserably and put down the can and suddenly launched himself at him with a snarl of fury, attacking him with his fists. 'All your fault – can't even let me have something for my own. You had to go and kiss her. Was it you? You do anythin' else to her while ya were at it? Hurt her? To make her not want...' He lashed out savagely. He just wanted to punish him, the betrayal was still fresh.  
'What? No – of course not!' Merle was taken aback when he thought he'd seen it all.  
'He was right...He said I'd never be happy..., don't deserve to be.' Daryl had stopped attacking him and laid his head on top of his chest instead a signal for his brother to wrap his arms around him. Merle could tell he was on the verge of tears. 'Everythin' I touch, I'll destroy! I'll end up hurting my kid!'  
'Sh...Ain't true, ain't true. He was sick, must have been to do what he did, you know that...'Sides, the fact that you're worried about being like him shows you ain't.'  
'Said I could never escape him even if he died....That I'd always be his and no woman could ever want me after...after....me and him.... They'd know...' He moaned.  
'Sick fuck! It ain't true, ya know that, don't ya? Jus' said that shit to mess with your head...'  
'Why don't she love me anymore? And he barely looks at her! And... and she's cuttin' again and I don't know how to make her stop!'  
Merle didn't tell him to man up, stop being pussy. Just wound his hand in his hair and held him. After all, he knew why Daryl had come to him. He was at a dead end, didn't know what to do. He may have already been a father himself but he still needed comfort from his big brother from time time.  
'I can't do it! Sometimes I just want to run away myself and leave them both of them behind but I fuckin' can't! What kind of dad does that make me then?'  
Merle made inarticulate sounds of understanding and carried on petting his hair. 'Ya know, most first time parents feel exactly like you do...scared shitless. And you're only 18, still a kid yourself. It's natural.'  
'Yeah but everytime I look at her...I'm so afraid somethin's or someone's gonna get her. That I can't keep her safe...She's so small...'  
'Jesus, brother! I never seen ya this scared before.' His voice had got a note of light teasing in it. Even with Dad, he added to himself mentally. It seemed like becoming a father was the scariest thing that had ever happened to his brother. Then again, having all that pressure, responsibility, a life in your hands...and his life hadn't been easy, no siree.  
'I ain't fuckin' scared.' His brother declared defiantly. 'Merle, I fuckin' hate you sometimes!' He thumped his chest with his fists.  
'Sh...'  
'I ain't a pussy, ya know!'  
'I know ya ain't. Hush now.'  
'What I got to do? I know he scared her but...he's gone now.'  
'She jus' needs time but maybe you can try...' He whispered the rest in his ear making his little brother's eyes widen.  
Merle chuckled at his reaction. For the first time, in a long time, he felt little brother smile.  
'Don't know why ya never asked me before about women.' He finished arrogantly. 'Can't believe ya never...didn't she ask ya too? See, 'cos all they want tis to feel special, pampered. You make them feel safe and they're putty in your hands. Jus' like you are now.' He joked.  
'Fuck you.' But he was sounding brighter until he frowned. 'But what if he comes back? Can't know for sure what happened to him....'  
'Ya think that stinking coward is gonna come back to finish off what he started? I don't think so.'  
'First thing ya both need to decide on a name. You can't keep calling her 'she', ya know.' Merle did his best to distract him from worrying to no avail.  
'I'll kill him if he does! I mean it this time!'  
Merle could only stare at his normally gentle brother and know he was serious. He was capable of murder if pushed too far, he knew that.  
He was a Dixon after all.  
Just like he'd been when he found his father doing what he did to him. And he'd loved their father. 

But he loved his baby brother more.


End file.
